The Revealing of Andre
by InvertedMeridian
Summary: Andre Paul, childe of Sophie-Anne LeClerq, had a "distinct" reputation: fierce, vicious, cruel and conniving. But...what that ALL there was to him? Emma may find out for herself. (*Rated M ...) Non-canon, AU, OC *While CH owns the character "Andre", I own the character "Emma".*
1. Chapter 1

Obligatory Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot and original characters. This is a COMPLETELY NON-CANON mix of stuff from True Blood and SS/SVM.

The Revealing of Andre

Andre stomped down the stairs snarling to himself, sea-blue eyes shooting sparks. As much as he loved his Maker, sometimes she really pissed him off. Ever since she had successfully "inherited" Arkansas from that prick Threadgill she had been on _his_ back to take over and rule that godforsaken dump. The thought of taking over Arkansas, much less moving there, soured his gut even more than his last feed.

As hard as she was pushing him to take the reins, any other vampire would naturally suspect their Maker of trying to be rid of them...but not Sophie-Ann. She truly did want Andre to step-up to the hard-earned role of King. Not regent. Not even consort, even though they no longer had _that_ sort of relationship. No, she wanted to give him the state and install him as sovereign king. Arkansas. Of all places.

It wasn't that he didn't especially want to be King. Well, he didn't, mainly because he didn't want to have to deal with the hassle of it all. But, he knew that now was the best time to take his own position. His Maker was finally as safe as she was ever going to be, thanks in part to her lovely little telepath. Yes, he would admit only to himself, he did find the little telepath decidedly attractive, and didn't blame the Northman for claiming her as he did.

He could also admit to himself that he regretted his actions in that hotel which led to the Northman bonding with the human, but if the situation were to rise again, he would do exactly the same thing. His Maker had been in a precarious position and having access to a telepath would strengthen her rule in a desperately needed way. What his Maker needed, he would do, no questions asked, no matter how he might grow to lament said actions later. Every vampire worth their rising had a long, detailed list of regretted actions; actions taken solely because they were necessary at the time.

At least the telepath and the Northman had come to an understanding, and a happy one at that from what he'd seen himself rather recently. That was good. Her loyalty to her pledged would keep her loyal to his Maker.

Neither one of them trusted him, and well they shouldn't. While he would never bother going out of his way to harm anyone not posing a direct threat to either himself or one who owned his precious loyalty, if some were that foolish, he had no problem doing whatever it took to neutralize said threat.

He owed loyalty to only three entities: his Maker, her queendom, and himself. That was it. Well, maybe he looked out for his brothers, too. Fuck everyone else. The strong would live and the weak would perish. Coddling anyone but the newest-born encouraged stupidity, weakness and disrespect.

He would willingly admit to himself that his Maker, Sophie-Ann, spoiled him tremendously, but he paid her back with hard work, smart service, and an unending loyalty. That was why she wanted to give him a kingdom, and why he didn't want it. As immature and spoiled as she herself sometimes was, she delighted in spoiling her own children. She loved doting on every one of them...even to the point of giving one of them a kingdom he didn't actually want.

He stalked by the almost seven feet tall hulking bulks of his brothers, Sigebert and Wybert, and ignored their knowing smirks. Of course they would think it hilarious that he was given a kingdom he didn't want. Intelligence certainly wasn't their strong point, but thankfully they were extremely loyal.

And huge. When out on royal business, Andre was usually accompanied by at least one, if not both, of the humor-challenged brothers. It was easy to dismiss his own 6"4' broad-shouldered, muscled frame when in their company, and that suited him just fine. It gave the foolish a chance to underestimate him until it was too late.

Early in his new life, he gave eager rise to rumors regarding his viciousness and cruelty. Most of those rumors were carefully crafted exaggerations, although enough of them were, for better or worse, quite true. While he certainly could be every bit as vicious and cruel as any situation warranted, he was actually too laid-back to bother...until or unless it became necessary. Then he could torture and flay skin with the best of them.

Meh. Maybe he would take over Arkansas. At least he'd get some peace and...

Next thing he knew, he was bouncing off a warm, feminine shape...that landed on the floor at his rather large feet.

"Hey, watch where I'm going up there!" Dark, sparkling brown eyes laughed back up at him.

"Wh..what?" What did she say?

The small female had the audacity to hold her hand up for him to help her rise from the floor as she laughed at him. Much to his amazement, he automatically held out his hand to do just that. When the hell had _he_ become infected with chivalry?

"Thank you," she said once she was on her feet. She must have been almost a foot shorter than he, with a deliciously curvy body. "You're taller than I am, and as a vampire you have much quicker reflexes and can move a lot faster than I can, so, yeah, watch where I'm going already!"

Bitch had dimples. Cute little dimples near her cute little smiling mouth. And she made a very odd sort of sense. What. The. Fuck.

Unaccustomed to such niceties, he found himself stumbling over asking her if she was ok. She'd hit the floor pretty hard, after all. Never mind she smelled fucking delicious.

He couldn't help but appreciate the view when she rubbed her nicely-rounded ass. "It's a good thing I don't bruise easily," she laughed, "or I'd be black and blue later on. You, my handsome, cool-blooded friend, are a walking mountain."

She pouted. At him. She actually pouted at him. With those lips. Did she not know who he was?

Absurdly, he hoped she didn't. He was heartily sick and tired of the collection of anal scrapers that surrounded him on a nightly basis. Suddenly his night didn't seem quite so noxious.

"If you like I could take a look to judge your injuries myself," he leered as he took a half-step closer.

She let loose a delightful peal of laughter and swatted at his arm with the paper still clutched in her hand. "Back it up there tall, blond and gorgeous."

"Why - whose are you?" As fucking charming as this female was, she had to belong to someone...someone who needed to keep a much better eye on her at that. Humans were not usually left free to run about the palace at will.

He leaned in a bit closer to better catch her scent, and didn't detect anyone else on her.

"Huh? What do you...oh, that vampire "own your food and slave" thing? Ugh, I don't belong to anybody but me, mister." The glare she gave him was adorable.

"Ahhh, so you're fair game, then." He hadn't meant to sound so pleased.

"Hey! No! I'm not fair and I'm no game, big guy, so don't be getting any fancy ideas over there."

He sensed that she finally realized that he wasn't exactly kidding. The ideas he had running through his mind concerning her were not fancy in the least. "What's your name, human?"

"Emma. And you are?"

Fuck, _this_ was the new girl his Maker was raving so much about.

Just as he started to identify himself, he heard something in the distance. Going with an instinct he didn't know he possessed, he quickly picked this Emma up and sped around the corner into an alcove just out of general sight.

He gently set her down, and looking directly into her startled brown eyes, he whispered, "You are mine and will ignore the advances of any other vampire."

Emma blinked and shook her head. "What are you talking ab..."

Shocked that his glamour didn't work but not having enough time to fully ask or explain, he placed his finger over her lips for a second and growled quietly into her ear, "Human, if you value your health and freedom, you will not fight me on this. Beauchamp is a cruel, twisted bastard. I am by far the lesser of the two evils."

At that moment even Emma's human hearing picked up the approach of two people. Going with her gut, Emma gazed back into the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen and nodded.

Inexplicably gratified by her acceptance and implied trust, Andre flicked his gaze toward the approaching footsteps, then quickly lowered his head to capture her lips in a strong, bruising kiss.

Barely a moment later, a high-pitched voice sneered, "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Is his soon-to-be-majesty enjoying a bit of a dalliance with the local peasants before taking off to his own little kingdom?"

Disliking the owner of that voice on instinct, Emma huddled a bit closer to the dubious comfort of Andre's big body.

Andre straightened and turned toward Beauchamp while at the same time managing to push Emma behind him.

"Beauchamp...to what do I owe the pleasure?" Somehow the word "pleasure" sounded much more like "disgust".

"I'm on my way to confer with your lovely Maker," the ugly vampire replied haughtily. His companion, not wanting to draw attention to himself, attempted invisibility. Unfortunately it didn't exactly work, but then, no one was interested in drawing him into the situation.

Andre snorted. "Good luck with that. She's already "retired" for the night. Guess you'll have to come back tomorrow." From the corner of his eye he noted the timely arrival of the brothers. Both Sigebert and Wybert wore a smile few would enjoy seeing. Neither appreciated the finer points of Beauchamp; sometimes the brothers displayed a remarkable level of genius.

Actually much more astute than they wanted people to know, they both immediately noted the protective stance Andre had taken with the human against the old vampire they all despised. In unspoken unison, they approved.

As they closed in, Emma relaxed. Although she was certain Andre (fuck, _the_ Andre himself!) would have been more than capable of handling the situation...she was fully aware of his less-than-savory reputation...still, the more backup, the better. She nodded her head respectfully to the brothers...who could not have missed her swollen, still-tingling lips.

At the brother's approach, Andre nodded at Sigebert. "Escort my pet to my quarters." Everyone hid their astonishment well. Andre didn't keep pets. Ever. He neither liked nor trusted humans enough to raise one to that status.

Without saying a word to anyone, Emma gladly allowed the silent brother to escort her from the tension-filled area. The farther away they walked, the easier she breathed. She could tell the moment they were out of ear-shot when she felt Sigebert relax.

"Whew...that was weird," she attempted to initiate conversation with the huge vampire.

"Did not know you knew Andre," was his reply.

"I didn't either till that ugly one called his name," she clarified. "I'd literally bumped into him about 10 minutes before then."

"Bumped?" Emma had to admit: she loved the brothers' accent.

"Yup. I turned the same corner he did, just from the opposite direction, except I was the one who ended up on the floor. He gave me a hand up, and we'd just started really talking when he sensed Beauchamp approaching. That's when he told me I was his."

Sigebert hrumphed in his classic style. Said noise could mean he was in deep thought, that his deep thought had passed, that he'd forgotten he was talking to you in the first place, or that he was going to reply...eventually. Emma waited.

Sure enough, "He claimed you? Andre does not keep pets. Interesting."

"I know...I kind of wonder what's going on, but like he said, he's definitely the lesser of the two evils between himself and that nasty one. He scares me."

"But Andre does not," he retorted with his version of a grin.

By this time they'd reached Andre's private residence in the palace. Without another word, Sigebert let her into the quarters, gave her an odd look, and left.

In her brief acquaintance with the brothers, she'd discovered that they were actually a lot more intelligent and humorous than they apparently wanted the public at large to know. There was much more going on behind their ancient gray eyes than they let on.

Although she had absolutely _no_ desire to "belong" to _any_ vampire, she had to agree with Andre...even with _his_ reputation he was definitely preferable to that disgusting Beauchamp. She had been working for Sophie-Ann for three nights when she had her first, and until tonight only, encounter with the evil vamp. Protecting her from his unwanted advances must be a "family" thing because Sophie-Ann had kept him preoccupied so she could make her escape that time.

One solid week. That's how long she'd been working in the palace. New Orleans was hot, humid, and full of every kind of body and entertainment you could imagine. The food was hot, and the vampires were cool. The nights were warm and sultry, and the vampires were thirsty.

Emma didn't actually care for most of the vamps she'd encountered, but she felt like she'd lucked out in that not only did she really like Sophie-Ann and The Brothers, but they seemed to like her as well. It would appear that the same could almost be said regarding Andre.

Not that she wouldn't expect every one of them to skrew her over if it proved beneficial to the queendom, though. She had no illusions. She knew herself to be just the newest curiosity to the queen and her children.

And she figured that the only reason she had captured Andre's attention was her blood. Evidentially she smelled...sweet. Ewe.

He, however, was a surprise. Naturally she'd heard of his horrible reputation: cruel, Machiavellian, vicious, fierce, violently protective of his Maker. Funny, though, the donors seemed to really like him, and with his reputation, you'd think he'd have been more than a little sadistic in his feed-and-fuck habits, but the donors reported that he was more perfunctory than anything. He wasn't concerned with their pleasure, but, unlike some of the vamps they serviced, he didn't go out of his way to hurt them, either...unless they asked him to. She'd stopped listening at that point.

She'd love to think that he had a ton of kindness hidden beneath his horrible reputation, but, she kind of doubted it. During her conversations with Sophie-Ann she'd learned so much about vampires: how they thought, how they lost their humanity simply to survive in the vampire world, how their loyalties changed, and so much more.

That woman was a genius. And funny. She suspected one of the main reasons Sophie-Ann had hired her in the first place was because they were able to share humor. That and the fact that when the queen lost an excruciatingly valuable necklace, Emma was the one who made sure she got it back.

Emma decided further exploration of the den/living room area could wait until after she found the bathroom. After wandering through the den, a large room that looked like an office, the huge but surprisingly-spartan bedroom, a huge closet, she finally located the bathroom.

After gratefully taking care of her human needs, she satisfied her curiosity about the bathroom. While his bedroom was basic and utilitarian, the bathroom was a very nice surprise. A huge jetted tub was the centerpiece of the room, with a separate shower, double vanity sink (but she thought he didn't keep pets?), and a separated toilet area complete with its own sink. The accumulated (and expensive) bathing and grooming supplies scattered around the tub and sink area said he actively used this room.

She retraced her steps back to the den, at least that's what she decided to call it. Several comfortable chairs mixed well with the two leather sofas and scattered end tables. A large entertainment system, complete with overly-complicated everything, took up one wall. Judging by the number of movie options near the huge-screen tv, the vamp liked his cinema.

She stepped over to the small kitchen area near the entertainment center. "Kitchen area" was too generous a description as there was a sink, a table, a small refrigerator, and a microwave...and that's it. Naturally there was only fake blood in the mini-fridge. Hrumph. Nary a coffee machine nor milk nor mug in sight. Inconsiderate vampire.

Emma wandered back over to a large, comfortable-looking sofa, took off her flats, and sat down. As fascinating as his personal space was, she felt odd exploring it. Privacy was a big thing to her, and she didn't want to invade his, even if she'd been basically sent here. If it hadn't so obviously been for her own protection, the whole thing would have rankled quite badly, but...meh.

As much as she didn't really want to, she kind of did trust the tall, blond vamp with the gorgeous blue eyes, sexy voice and fuck-hot kissing ability. His horrible reputation was the only, well, main, hold-up. Oh, well, it wasn't like she was going to get _involved_ with him. Maybe.

Course, the way it was looking, she already was involved with him. According to Sigebert he never had "pets". Ugh...what an awful way to say...what, boy/girlfriend? From what she understood, it went way past that. The vamp fed from the human, and they had sex together. The vamp generally only treated the human as good as they had to in order to keep the human willing to feed and fuck them. Geez. What a relationship. At least glamour wasn't really a part of that...agreement? Arrangement? How...romantic.

She was awfully glad she couldn't be glamoured. Sophie-Ann was, too. It meant that no other vampire could make her tell what she knew without her knowing about it. It was a great safety aspect in one way, but a threat in another. Sophie-Ann also knew that no one could glamour her to "forget" anything she heard or saw there, either.

Quickly bored with waiting, it wasn't long until she curled up...on Andre's sofa...in Andre's quarters... Emma soon nodded off.

o~0~o~0~o~0~o~0~o

Andre was livid. Fucking Beauchamp needed a very painful ending, and soon. The only hold-up was the old vampire's business dealings with Sophie-Ann. As soon as those were completed, Andre would be most pleased to handle his ending himself. Slowly. As in months slowly.

After informing Sophie-Ann of the encounter (secret telepathic communications between the Maker and her children were amazingly convenient), he was finally able to go check on Emma.

His quarters were his last bastion of privacy, and he really didn't like having Sigebert stash her there, but it was the safest place for her at the time. Maybe permanently. He didn't trust Beauchamp for shit and he sure as hell didn't like the disgusting way he was looking at her. Even after she left with his brother, even after he'd actually stated that she was his, the old fool still wasted time scenting her. Fucking bastard. As if he didn't already have enough reasons to hate his eternal guts.

When Andre entered his chambers, the first thing he noticed was the delicious new aroma lightly permeating the den. Emma's delicate, sweet scent was mouthwatering. Then he spotted her curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. He silently sped over to her.

He stood gazing down at her for countless minutes. Her dark hair had come loose from the band and wisps softly fanned her face. Her cheeks were flushed with sleep, her pink lips softly parted, her hand curled up under her chin.

What the fuck was he supposed to do with her now?

He knew fuck-all about caring for a human. Food. He knew she'd need to be fed, and would need something to drink. He glanced over toward the sofa again. Humans got cold easily, didn't they? Maybe he should cover her up with something?

After impatiently searching the cupboards in the bedroom, he finally found a spare blanket. A moment later he gently spread it across her sleeping form. He instinctively stilled when she shifted under the warming weight. When long moments passed without her stirring again, he finally moved...to heat himself a couple of fake bloods. Her scent was too delicious to ignore for long.

As he leaned against the wall near the microwave across the room from the sofa, he kept watching over her. She might move or something.

She'd been in his quarters quite a while now; was she hungry yet? Did he need to feed her? How often _did_ humans need to be fed? He couldn't remember. Maybe he should call down to the kitchen and have something sent up. But he didn't want to risk waking her, either.

What the hell was he supposed to do with her if she woke up?

.

.

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****Ok...should this be continued, or should I just leave it be? I MUST KNOW THESE THINGS! Review, please!****

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	2. Chapter 2

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 2**

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When a long five minutes passed and she didn't stir, Andre, still keeping a wary eye on her sleeping body, grabbed his laptop and silently stomped over to his favorite chair. He hastily but silently repositioned the chair and table to better observe his confusing guest, then sat and began dealing with that night's tasks.

Seventeen minutes later, she fidgeted a little. It pissed Andre off that he knew this solely because he'd been staring at her for fourteen of the past seventeen minutes.

He hated being distracted. It was such a rare occurrence for him that, when it did happen, it galled him even further. His Maker often teased him that his extreme ability to focus should be considered one of this vampire gifts.

She had obviously never seen him around this particular female.

He finally gave up, closed his laptop, and faced her fully. She was beautiful even when he judged her with his highly-critical eye. She was much quicker mentally than the humans he usually had to deal with. She was certainly mouthier than he was used to, and much more forward. He could probably become accustomed to...

Wait...he brought himself up short. What the fuck was he thinking? He wasn't going to _keep_ her...was he? She did smell incredible. At least she didn't simper. And she was extremely...fuckable.

Andre chastised himself...he never acted as rashly as he had done this night. Not only did he claim some girl he didn't know, but he'd had her brought up to his _private_ residence. In retrospect he considered that he should have had Sigebert take her to one of the donor quarters...but BeauChamps would have easily tracked her there.

He couldn't suppress a low growl at the thought of that nasty bastard getting his hands and fangs on her. No. His first impulse had been right. She was best protected here, in his quarters...even if he had no idea of what the hell to do with her once she woke up.

His bright sea-blue eyes narrowed as he studied her sleep-flushed cheeks and elegant brows. He _could_ fuck her, he guessed. He was definitely in the mood for a serious feed and fuck session. But...she was somehow important to his Maker, which told him that she was more than a regular, boring, disposable human. He just wished he knew in what way. He scowled as he felt his curiosity pique.

One of his Maker's vampire gifts was the ability to discern potential in both humans and vampires. If Sophie-Anne had taken an interest in the girl, then there was something "more" about her. He wondered if his Maker knew the girl couldn't be glamoured.

Either way, it seemed this Emma was in some way valuable to his Maker, and therefore her queendom, so it was only his duty to protect her...especially from scum like BeauChamps.

He almost smiled at the memory of her telling him to watch where she was going. Mon dieu but she was mouthy. His eyes zeroed in on her sleep-softened lips, and unbidden the memory of that kiss resurfaced with a vengeance.

He'd mostly meant the kiss as a ruse to hide her from the bastard's attention, but he knew that if it had lasted another few seconds, he would have been too tempted to fuck her right there against the wall come what may.

He stared at his crotch with deep irritation as his cock rose to salute the memory of her lips under his.

So what if the bitch tasted better than anyone else he'd ever kissed. So what if her lips had melted under his like she was fucking made for him. So what if her scent made his fangs ache. Fuck. His fangs weren't the only thing aching.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and shifted in his chair. The bitch had dimples, and she couldn't be glamoured. He had an ominous feeling that she was telling the truth when she stated that she wasn't a game.

He glanced at the clock. Damn. It was only four hours till sunrise. At his age, he could delay dying for the day by a couple of hours, but it wasn't a gift he advertised.

So...he had four hours to wake the human up, get her fed as he supposed she might be hungry by now, and inform her of his plans and rules for her.

He grabbed his phone and, after finding the extension since he'd never used it before, called down to the palace kitchen. Sophie-Anne kept the palace donors well-fed, but the kitchen was kept in operation twenty-four hours a day primarily to keep her personal pets happy. Andre never understood the need to pander to pets so much, but he was glad the kitchen was open.

"I need food for one human female to be delivered as soon as possible."

"Yes, this _is_ Andre."

"No, I do _not_ know what kind."

"Then send a fucking selection and she can decide what she wants!"

He slammed his phone to the table. How the hell was _he_ supposed to know what human females ate?

**o~0~o~0~o~0~o~0~o**

Emma stretched, then rubbed her nose. Something was tickling it...something warm and fuzzy. A blanket? No wonder she was so nice and warm. She sat up to unravel the mystery of the mysteriously appearing blanket, and jumped at the unexpected male voice.

"Sleep well," Andre queried as he stared at her from across the room. Although his voice was decidedly impassive, his gaze was intent as he studied her sleep-flushed face.

"Yeah, surprisingly enough, I did." Emma stood and stretched, then removed her scrunchy to shake out her hair. She started to put her hair back up when he stopped her.

"Leave it down." She didn't like the command in his voice.

"Why? It gets in the way and is really annoying."

Andre was stumped. He wasn't accustomed to having his orders questioned. And, what was he supposed to say? He couldn't tell her that her dark hair was beautiful, that he thought the waves flowing down her back were lovely. Could he? No, he could not.

"Ffft. Do as you will then." He flicked his hand negligently.

Emma gave him an odd look, then twisted her hair back up in her usual messy knot. After she folded the blanket and placed it over the back of the sofa, she turned back to the gorgeous but enigmatic vampire. Was he _always_ in such a mood?

"You're Andre?" She wanted clarification.

"Yes." Andre wasn't happy. His interactions with humans were rarely a pleasant experience for either one of them, and this human was particularly baffling.

"Well, Andre, thank you for the blanket. And for getting me away from BeauChamps." She walked her bare feet over to him. "I really do appreciate it. There's just something...off...about him."

He regarded her sternly. "Yes," he agreed. "I would advise you to have nothing to do with him."

Emma grimaced. "Ugh, I'm in total agreement with you there." She looked around. "Erm, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to tend to some human needs."

Andre nodded. As he watched her retreat to the bathroom, he couldn't help but reaffirm his high opinion of her rounded ass. Even her fucking toe nails were cute.

Were humans even supposed to have cute toe nails? He wasn't sure. The only thing he _was_ sure about was that he wasn't as in control of this situation as he wanted.

Emma escaped to the bathroom. As she tended to her human needs, she wondered at how stilted everything was between them all of a sudden. Not like they had a "history" or anything, but still. Finally gathering her courage, she went back into the den and pretended not to notice Andre tracking her with his beautiful blue eyes.

She was glad she'd painted her toe nails the day before since they seemed to fascinate him. Maybe he had some sort of foot fetish? She knew that vampires were weird about sex - Sophie-Anne had told her a lot about vampire ways, and in fact was _still_ trying to get "between her beautiful thighs" even though she knew full well that Emma didn't swing that way.

Just as things were about to get _really_ awkward, someone knocked on the door.

"Stay there," he advised before opening the door. Balking at his tone, but appreciating the implied security, Emma sat back down on the sofa, and watched in amazement as a man rolled a huge cart of food into the room. The man bowed low to Andre, then quickly left.

Disgust plain on his face, Andre gestured toward the food. "Eat."

After voicing his one-word command, he sat back down and continued to watch her.

Emma approached the food cart and wondered why they had sent so much food. Steak, baked potato, corn, fried shrimp, slaw, spinach salad, fruit salad, jambalaya, jello, and several other things she couldn't immediately identify. Finally she grabbed a plate and loaded it up with some shrimp and fruit salad. She wasn't actually hungry, but he _had_ been thoughtful enough to order her a mountain of food. On second thought, that jambalaya did look good. So did the red jello.

Suddenly the impish part of Emma's personality came to the front. No matter how nice he was actually being to her, Andre's innate superiority-complex _was_ rather annoying. So, after making her selections and fixing herself a cup of coffee from the carafe and glass of milk, she carted everything over to the small table where he was sitting. The shock was still plain on his face as she tugged a chair over and sat.

What...did he expect her to eat standing up at the cart?

"Thank you for dinner." She glanced down at the spread before her, laughed, and looked back up at him. "It looks like I was pretty hungry." She didn't notice his eyes fixating on her dimples.

Andre found himself strangely fascinated as he watched her eat. At first he was just grateful she didn't shove the food into her face and chew like a damn cow. He actively avoided watching humans eat - they were fucking disgusting.

He quickly grew to appreciate how she took small bites, and took time to savor the food that she put in her mouth. She was actually rather...neat...in her eating habits.

Then she flicked her tongue out to lick her lower lip. He was glad she didn't see his fangs inadvertently descend. He prided himself on his stern self-control, and was glad she didn't witness his sudden loss of it. He finally managed to retract his fangs just before she glanced up at him.

"Does it bother you to see a human eat?"

"Normally, yes." His expression changed as if he suddenly remembered to be disgusted.

"Why? Is it the food, or the chewing, what?" Emma was determined to get him talking somehow.

"Both." Or maybe not.

Andre wondered why her eyes were twinkling like she was about to laugh again. And why did she keep talking?

Emma concentrated on finishing her dinner. The food was really good; the company, not so much. He just kept staring at her, like he expected her to do tricks or something. He didn't seem to be the least bit interested in having any sort of conversation. Frustrated with the whole ordeal, Emma took one last sip of her coffee...and almost felt when his gaze landed on her mouth as she licked an errant drop off her bottom lip.

Finally tied of the day and all its unexpected, confusing and bothersome excitements, Emma just wanted to go home. By her guesstimation dawn would arrive in an hour or so, and she figured Andre would want to spend a few minutes commanding her to be careful. She put her dirty dishes back on the cart, and went to wash her hands.

The moment Emma left the room, Andre pushed the offending food cart out the door. Knowing a long conversation was due to take place and having a vague memory of humans sipping from cups during one, he snagged the carafe, small jug, and cup from the cart and placed them on the table.

And paced. His Maker and queen favored this human, so he had to proceed carefully. Regardless of the outcome of this conversation, he couldn't allow BeauChamps to harm her. Her safety was his primary concern; her comforts were secondary at best.

That he wasn't sure how to proceed irritated him. That he was irritated angered him. That he cared at all really pissed him off. That he didn't want to dim the beautiful light shining from her lovely, lively brown eyes floored him.

When he heard Emma leaving the bathroom, he vamped back to his seat, and waited.

Emma walked over to the sofa and started to put her shoes on.

_What the fuck?_

"What are you doing?"

Emma gasped and looked up - he was suddenly mere inches away from her - she hadn't even heard him get up, much less approach her. She was so surprised by his unexpected closeness that she involuntarily leaned away from him and would have lost her balance if he hadn't put an arm around her waist. She automatically raised a hand to his chest.

"J..just putting my shoes on so I can go?" She hadn't meant it to come out as a question, but dang, he had such a way about him. He was almost a foot taller than she was, and he smelled incredible.

He tilted his head a bit. "Go...where," he demanded.

"Home - that place where I live?"

He pulled her even closer. She forgot her shoes and let him, and tried not to notice how she brought her other hand up to his wide chest.

"I guarantee that if you leave here, if you leave _my chambers_, you will be followed. BeauChamps scented you, and will come after you if given the chance" he warned with a deep growl.

Emma's jaw dropped and her eyes grew big with fear and surprise. "Seriously? I knew he was eyeing me, but why would he go through all that trouble?"

"Because you're beautiful and you smell fucking delicious," Andre snarled succinctly.

Emma blushed scarlet. "Oh. Well. That's not good." Then to Andre's astonishment, she laughed. "I've always wanted to be irresistible, just, not like _that_. At least _you're_ not affected."

He clasped her firmly to his chest with hard hands, and slowly trailed his nose from her ear down her throat to the crook of her neck...and back up. He touched the tip of his tongue to her skin, barely tasting her, and rasped into her ear, "Want to fucking bet?"

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****Ok, so here's a second chapter - is it still worth continuing? Your reviews matter, so let me know what you think!****

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ****_**CAUTION: Possible trigger warning**_. I wasn't sure about whether or not to even post a warning because the mention is so very short, but to err on the side of caution: _Very_ short description of rape/violence against women (•given as a helpful warning•) in this chapter.**

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**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 3**

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Emma heard Andre's fangs click and gasped as he slowly trailed them down the side of her neck. The sensual torture tripled when he started in with the open-mouthed kisses and nibbles.

She didn't think she'd ever been so turned on in her life, but knew this wasn't exactly the best time for such things. Besides, this was _Andre_...and she had a very strong suspicion that he might be a bit more than she could handle just then, no matter how incredible his scent...or how talented his tongue...

So, she pushed her hands against his chest and firmly commanded him to stop. It was like pushing into a brick wall...he didn't even budge.

His mocking laugh, deep and low and quite sardonic, tickled her ear. "Do you _really_ believe such a pathetic attempt would stop someone like BeauChamp?" Mon Dieu she couldn't be _that_ stupid! And why the fuck did he care anyway?

Emma's stomach tightened in direct response to his blunt teeth nibbling her earlobe. "No, but I do believe it will stop you, though."

Andre snorted. "Really. And what could possibly give you that impression?" He trailed his nose half way down her throat to nibble and suck at her already sensitive flesh. Maybe she wasn't so much stupid as naive, he posited as he sucked in one particular place, knowing he would leave his mark.

She couldn't help the slight groan that escaped as she concentrated on maintaining her sanity. "Because that piece of walking necromancer bait doesn't appear to have even half of your intelligence or self-control." She hated how breathless she sounded, but damn, he was so, so good. She didn't realize that her hands were clawing into his chest instead of pushing him away.

Andre did.

He was equally torn between sinking his throbbing fangs into the warm pulse thrumming in her neck, stripping her bare and fucking her hard against every flat and bent surface in his chambers, or turning her over his knee for even _thinking_ she could fend off a vampire, _any_ vampire, much less one as strong and..._fuck_.

Self-control.

He ground his teeth as her words hit home. As much as he wanted to... He took an unnecessary breath. He had to make damn sure that she knew exactly the danger she could face if she didn't listen to him.

Still holding her with firm hands, he drew his head back enough to glare down into her wide brown eyes. The flush and scent of her arousal didn't escape him. Neither did the faint tinge of her fear. "You do realize that if I wished it, you would be fucked, drained, and dead, when and how I wanted, and you would have no way of stopping it," he hissed.

His face hardened at the thought of her in BeauChamps' foul clutches, of what that bastard would undoubtedly do to her. "You stupid, defenseless human, how the _fuck_ do you think you would fare if I were BeauChamp!" Instantly she was pinned between a very hard wall and a very hard, loudly incensed vampire. He slapped his hands against the wall on either side of her and made her jump.

He didn't understand this unusually fierce urge to get his point across; he just knew that he had to make her understand and, for once, he didn't feel the least bit inclined toward subtly.

"_His_ kind would not care to prepare you for either his fangs or his cock. _His_ kind would delight in hurting you, not in pleasuring you," he growled deep in his chest as he leaned down to almost touch his lips to hers. "_His_ kind is aroused by the scent of your fear and pain. If you were _very_ lucky, he would end you the first night in his captivity. Otherwise you would exist chained to his bed, raped and fed from _repeatedly_, until you were either starved or bled to death, or chose to end your own life."

Andre shuddered at the image in his mind and drew in a few deep breaths of her scent as he fought back his frustration.

That small whiff of fear he had detected pulled at his chest. Bizarrely, it felt...wrong, even though it was something that he normally wouldn't have even noticed.

In a voice somewhat softer but no less severe, he rasped into her ear, "I do not tell you these things to make you fear _me_, woman, but to make you understand the true threat of his kind. There are as many types of vampires as humans, and his kind is among the worst. To them, humans are no more than contemptible food and entertainment. You show more respect to an old pair of shoes than he would show to your whole species."

He straightened back up, and glared into her eyes. Sternly he asked, "Now do you see why you _cannot_ leave my chambers unless you are accompanied by either me or one of the brothers...why you will_ not_ be left alone?"

Inwardly Andre was very pleased when it appeared that this silly, beautiful girl finally seemed to truly grasp her situation. He tried to ignore his displeasure with the hint of fear still lingering in her eyes. What aggravated him more was the fact that he was bothered by her fear in the first place, and he absolutely refused to think about how he missed her dimples.

He had to give her points for courage, though. She accomplished a feat few would dare attempt - she not only looked him straight in the eye, which was rare enough for a human, but managed to maintain that eye contact throughout their entire encounter. That her eyes were a lovely shade of deep warm brown did not go unnoticed.

Emma swallowed hard. The bleak, raw picture he painted disturbed her to her core. If even _Andre_ was that worried about this asshole...

He continued. "I have verbally claimed you, and while that would be enough to protect you from vampires with any intelligence," he scoffed, "I am certain it would not be enough to dissuade that bastard. This is why you _will_ remain in here, with me, until tonight when I, or one of my brothers, will escort you to your home to pack. Afterward, you will go nowhere unless you are accompanied by one of us. Do you understand me?"

The heat in his sea-blue eyes didn't quite match the stern expression on his face, but it burned nonetheless. Emma nibbled her lower lip as she mentally reviewed her non-existent options,

Sharp impatience jabbed at Andre's nerves as he waited for Emma's answer. And why the fuck did she keep worrying at her lip like that? It was soft and pink and plump, meant for slow licks and..._what the hell was he thinking!?_ He hadn't even _thought_ about kissing anyone in - he couldn't even remember how long it'd been...a century at least...until earlier that same night. _Fuck_. And he didn't even _like_ kissing, he reminded himself as he continued staring at her lips.

Finally she nodded. Her gut whispered that that one simple nod would have consequences she couldn't even imagine.

It took her damn near long enough, he groused to himself in unacknowledged relief.

She cleared her suddenly dry throat and wondered why he'd been staring at her mouth so intently. "So what do I do about working with Sophie-Anne tomorrow night?"

Displeasure was evident on his face. "You dare call her by name?" He refused to admit how cute her accent was when she pronounced the word as "tomorra".

Emma shrugged, very highly aware of being surrounded by the cage of his large body and arms. "She told me to."

"That's highly unusual." Andre was at once annoyed by his Maker's courtesy to a mere breather and yet strangely pleased for the human. Sophie-Anne didn't favor many with such familiarity, and rarely ever a human at that. Even her pets referred to her by title.

"What exactly do you do for my Maker?" He'd heard her briefly mention an Emma in previous conversations, but didn't remember her stating anything specific. She'd been made to sound more like a new friend than an employee.

Although the angst portion of their conversation seemed to be over, Emma noted that Andre made absolutely no effort to move away from her. She also noted that his fangs were still extended behind his firm, full lips, but she lightly rested her hands on his trim waist to relieve her tiring arms anyway.

"That's just it - I never know from night to night _what_ she's going to want me to do." Emma laughed...the whole "employment" situation with the Queen struck her as a bit ridiculous. Aristocratic yet somehow youthful, Andre's face looked much less severe when he quirked his brow.

Emma continued, "It seems I mostly just hang out with her. We talk, joke around, laugh a lot. Earlier this evening we spent a few hours going over plans for that big party she's throwing next week. The color scheme is cobalt blue and stark white, by the way...well, until she changes her mind again," Emma laughed again. "I hope she doesn't...they're my favorite colors."

Andre dreaded having to endure yet another of Sophie-Anne's "festivities". What was she celebrating this time? Oh, yeah...nothing. He mentally rolled his eyes.

"I take it you're less than thrilled with her latest party, huh." Emma shocked him with her astute observation.

He prided himself on his ability to keep his true opinions and reactions hidden behind a carefully crafted facade. He must be slipping if this petite upstart had been able to discern his true thoughts. He zeroed in on the humor in her sparkling brown eyes and managed to quell a sudden burst of ire. What the fuck was she grinning about now?

"It's ok, Andre, I won't tell. I hate parties too," she whispered conspiratorially as her dimples made an appearance. Damn it, _how_ could he be angry with her when she looked up at him like that? "Now, back it up, big guy. My throat's dry and I need a drink of water or something."

After staring down into her sweetly smiling face for a very long moment, Andre relented and gestured toward the table they had used earlier. Emma's eyes lit up when she saw the coffee service she'd thought was gone.

"Oh, perfect," she exclaimed as she brushed by him. "This was what was on the cart? I'm glad you saved it. Coffee is always the answer," she laughed and nodded wisely as she poured herself a fresh cup from the thermos. Before she added the milk, she inhaled the strong, delicious aroma with delight. Her slight moan of appreciation went straight to the tall, blond vampire's cock.

Andre folded his arms and leaned against the wall that still held Emma's warmth and scent. He could maybe - possibly - understand why his Maker enjoyed the girl's presence if little things like a cup of coffee often gave her such appealing pleasure.

Recalling her circumstances and blushing slightly, Emma quickly added the milk to her cup and took a seat. She flicked her eyes toward Andre and quickly looked away when she spotted the bulging tent in his khakis. She really hoped her face wasn't nearly as red as it suddenly felt.

He wondered if he should caution the human about just how enticing a blush could be to a hungry vampire, but decided against it. For one thing, he vaguely remembered that blushing was involuntary. For another, her flushes were so tantalizing he didn't want to stop them anyway. He noted his mark on her neck and made a point to ponder his deep sense of satisfaction later.

Emma glanced down at her bare wrist and frowned.

"What," Andre demanded in a clipped tone as he shifted uncomfortably.

"I was just wondering what time it was. It can't be that long till sun-up, can it?"

"We have about an hour and a half left."

"Oh."

"Why the frown?" Like he cared.

"I keep forgetting that my watch strap broke and none of my freckles know how to tell time."

He chuckled. He...fucking...chucked. Out loud. In front of a human. _What the fuck was wrong with him?_

Pretending that horrible noise hadn't come from him, Andre pointed toward the bedroom. "You'll sleep in there."

Emma jerked her head up and looked toward the bedroom. "But...where will you sleep?"

Instantly his entire demeanor changed from relaxed and controlled to intensely predatory. His eyes darkened to the most potent blue Emma had ever seen and slowly, carefully, raked over her from the tips of her toes all the way up to the top of her head and she just _knew_ he'd missed nothing in between. She was eternally thankful she was sitting down because she knew her knees would never have been able to withstand the results such minute, sensual, scrutiny.

As his gaze scalded over her entire frame, Emma could swear she felt every single nerve in her body awaken.

His nostrils flared as he scented her unintentional arousal and heard the increased fluttering of her heart. As he willed his fangs and cock to stop with the damn throbbing, he plotted the quickest course to extricate himself from this precarious situation. He needed a feed and fuck _now_...and not in that order.

"I have a secure room hidden behind these walls," he growled, his voice deep and dark.

Emma cleared her throat, and really wished she had a clean pair of panties with her. Did the manpire have _any_ idea how damn sexy his voice was? "I need something to sleep in."

Andre stomped into the bedroom and a brief moment later reappeared directly in front of her. Still seated, her gaze automatically focused on his...

"I put a shirt on the bed for you." She tore her eyes away from the mountain at his crotch and focused on his intense blue eyes. He smirked knowingly. "Unless you're volunteering," his gaze rested directly on her breasts which tingled in response, "I'm leaving for a feed and fuck. Do not leave my quarters for any reason. I will arrange for your food; just dial this number when you're ready for it." He vamped over to a side table, withdrew a pen and paper, and wrote the number down.

"Flip the lock after I leave." He gave her one last long, searing stare, then left.

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****So: **_**was**_** the trigger warning warranted (I'm unsure about these kinds of things)?** **

****Also: Ahh, poor Andre...such a losing battle he fights! I very much appreciate every one of your thoughts and reviews - they mean so much to me! So: Thoughts? Reviews?****

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **This is just a short "intermission"...hope you enjoy!****

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The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 4

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Three weak, thoroughly exhausted whores, one hour and twenty-five minutes later, Andre re-entered his quarters. Two strides and one whiff into his den, and he knew all his efforts had been for naught.

Fuck.

He quickly entered his secure chambers and, ripping his clothes off en route, headed straight for the shower. The stench of the donor whores wasn't _that_ rancid... until he caught another whiff of Emma.

Damn her.

After nearly draining two of the donors, and fucking all three into exhaustion, he should have been much calmer, much more focused. But no. Of course not. He still felt like he hadn't had a decent fuck in a century.

After scrubbing himself nearly raw under the hottest water he could stand, Andre still felt unclean. He didn't understand this novel feeling. He'd only made one of the sluts bleed, and hell, he knew for a fact _she_ liked pain. He should know; he was the one who had trained her.

It took him a while, but he finally found his silk pajamas. He never wore the damn things because he always, without fail, slept alone. Besides a few irrelevant servants performing their cleaning duties, Emma was the first human to ever step foot in his apartments.

Wait - she was employed by his Maker, wasn't she, so...ok, she was a servant, too, so she didn't count.

Somewhat satisfied with his reasoning, Andre donned the azure silk pajama set given to him by his Maker as a joke. He wasn't surprised at how well they fit, but he was pleased by their silken softness. It reminded him of Emma's cheek.

Fuck.

Although he'd drank so much blood that his skin appeared faintly healthy, he still heated up a bottle and guzzled it down. He could have sworn the swill almost tasted better than the donors, and they were chosen as much for their taste as their erotic skills.

He glared at the door to his secure room. She was out there, in the bed where he normally slept, in between his sheets, her dark hair probably fanned across his pillows. He couldn't remember the last human he had observed during their sleep.

His hand was on the doorknob before he even realized he had moved. Perhaps he should check on her; she _was_ in his care after all. Didn't humans move in their sleep? What if her covers had slipped?

That was all it took to propel him out of his room, through the den, and into his regular bedroom.

On silent feet he slowly approached the bed. Sure enough, she had kicked free of her coverings, and, sure enough, her dark hair was fanned out behind her. Curled up on her side, her breath smooth and even, she was out cold.

Although he could detect that she had showered, her scent still hit him like a punch to his gut.

Impossibly she looked even younger all curled up in her sleep. Her face was flushed and relaxed, and one of her hands rested near the second pillow...right where his heart would be if he were resting with...

She was wearing the shirt he'd selected for her, and it was over-large for her smaller frame. Given the way she was positioned, and the fact she had obviously moved around enough for the shirt to ride up, he could tell she wasn't wearing any underwear. His already-unsatisfied cock sprang back to life with a mocking throb. Her sweet, curvy ass was even more faultless when freed from unnecessary cloth.

She didn't seem the kind to go without proper under-clothing, though, so what had happened to her undergarments? A quick perusal through the bathroom showed that the panties and bra in question were hung up and slowly drying. He snickered. He ought to have known she would be the type to attend to such things.

He picked up one of her towels hung to dry near the shower and inhaled deeply. Her light, feminine scent permeated the cloth. He hung the towel back up and, completely without thought, brought her drying panties to his nose. His fangs dropped so fast and hard he wondered if they'd overextended themselves. He thrummed lightly to himself as he reveled in the achingly seductive scent.

Three minutes later, when he realized what he was doing, he hurriedly hung them back up and fled the bathroom.

He didn't have time for this stupid shit. He stalked over to the bed and crouched down to better view her face. Snoring...that's what it was called when humans made disgusting noises in their sleep. She didn't even have the courtesy to fucking snore.

He rolled his eyes as he caught himself gently pulling the covers up over her. It was a shame to cover that fine, curvy ass. He tried to remember if there was anyone in the dungeons needing his particular expertise, then remembered that the day was already breaking, so it was irrelevant at best.

So...here he was, stuck in his apartments, forced to inhale the delectable scent of the "pet" he had suddenly saddled himself with, through every fault of his own, even if he did blame her damn dimples. And humor. And that weird sweetness in her smile. And the shining clarity in her eyes.

Damn. At least she'd shown enough sense to fear him earlier before he left to feed.

He couldn't believe how very unsatisfying the fucks had been. No matter how many times he'd cum, it was all just...boring. Mundane.

He wondered briefly why his feet took him back to her bathroom. _Her_ bathroom? _What the fuck_! That was _his_ bathroom - and _his_ bed, too, damn it...until he'd given them to her. Shit.

He quickly placed a set of clean towels and wash cloths on the counter and gathered up her slightly-damp towels, and stalked off to his hidden quarters.

Once inside, he quickly stripped off the offending pajamas, slung the silk covers to the side, and settled back against the headboard of his bed. He lifted the towel that held the strongest scent of her to his nose, and inhaled. He was surprised at how her light scent clung so deliciously to the soft material...and at just how quickly his barely-softened cock grew rock-hard again.

He placed the towel into his left hand, and drew his right hand slowly down his chest. After thumbing his nipple roughly for a moment, he gave in and finally grasped his hard length in his firm hand. A slightly painful dry rub might be just the thing, he thought as he bent his knees and stroked himself harder.

He inhaled deeply from the towel again and spread his long legs farther apart. He slid his hand a bit lower, grabbed his balls and pulled and squeezed hard as he imagined her smoothing her small, delicate hands over his body.

His hand flew back to his cock at the thought of how those plump, pink lips of her would fit perfectly over the head of his shaft. He grunted as he pumped harder and faster, and the thought of her sweet tongue stroking the underside of his cock as she sucked him off made him cum harder and stronger than he had even with what's-her-name downstairs earlier.

That he thought about Emma while jerking himself off didn't bother him. That the mere thought of her had brought him a much more satisfying release than the living, breathing, well-trained whore did half an hour ago really pissed him off.

He quickly cleaned himself with the slightly-less-scented towel, balled it up, and slung it toward the bathroom. With a disgruntled growl he turned over, covered himself up, and prepared for the day to suck him under.

He slipped into his day rest hoping she no longer feared him. He refused to think about the towel resting so very innocently under his cheek.

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****Ok, I read somewhere that Sophie-Anne is supposed to be apx. 1,100 years old, but I've never seen an actual age for Andre. I don't think Sophie-Anne was terribly old when she changed Andre, but I don't know if I want him to be "that" old. I kind of want him "younger" than that. This is where "creative license" can come play, right? :D Review, please! ****

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	5. Chapter 5

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 5**

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Emma came to slowly. At first she didn't remember where she was until she inhaled the dark, spicy scent of the pillow under her head; then the memories came flooding back.

Andre. She was in Andre's private quarters, in Andre's shirt, in Andre's bed.

And what a luxuriously soft bed and shirt they were, she thought as she stretched out. She felt like she'd slept a week but she was still tired. No doubt it was left-overs from all the odd drama of the previous evening.

She glanced around until she found the clock and was glad to discover it was only about 2:15pm. Bathroom, food, then back to bed, she planned.

She stopped at the bathroom door and stared. There was a stack of clean towels and washcloths on the counter, her damp towels were MIA, and her drip-drying underwear was drip-drying somewhat to the left of where she'd hung them. Well, her panties were. Weird. She hoped her slightly-damp underwear would be completely dry by the time she woke back up.

After calling nature back and cleaning up a bit, she dialed the number Andre had left and wasn't surprised when a friendly voice answered. Sophie-Anne surrounded herself with the nicest people when she could.

After ordering her breakfast, Emma went ahead and dressed, even though she rolled her eyes at the effort. She knew where her butt was going the second after she ate - right back to sleep in that glorious bed.

Knowing what she did of his reputation, and knowing what she knew from personal experience, Emma was a bit surprised at the luxuriousness of Andre's quarters, and especially of his bed. If asked, she'd have thought he probably slept on hardwood planks with leather sheets instead of having the softest duvet covering the softest sheets on the softest, most perfectly supportive mattress available to man- and vampire-kind.

While his bedroom was somewhat austere, what was there was definitely high-class and tended toward the luxurious.

She shook her head at the inconsistencies. All her life she'd known that very few things were absolutely black or white; most things were varying shades of gray, and apparently Andre was no different.

But even considering her vast aptitude for broadmindedness, he was an enigma. His reputation screamed brutality and harshness, yet his bed was the softest thing she'd ever felt. His temperament seemed brusque and stern at best, yet, it looked like he had every movie she'd ever heard of, a vast assortment of books, and if she wasn't mistaken, bubble bath products around the huge, jetted tub in the bathroom.

He just didn't make sense. And, even more disturbing, it was like he couldn't make up his mind if he liked her or hated her. She had a sneaking suspicion it was both.

After eating a surprisingly large breakfast of bacon, sausage links, eggs, toast, butter, jam, coffee, milk, and orange juice, Emma rolled the serving trolley back out to the hall, and kept the coffee service for later. She was glad the coffee and milk were in their own individual thermal carafes.

After brushing her teeth and washing the sticky jam from her hands, she took another look around the bathroom. She'd never described a bathroom as "elegant" before, but the term definitely fit.

She folded her pants and placed them on the counter near the new stack of clean towels and cloths. He must have put the damp towels wherever damp towels go here, but why didn't he take the wrung-out washcloth too? Again...weird.

She didn't want to consider the warm, exciting feelings fluttering in the base of her stomach when she though about him wandering around when she was sleeping, but he obviously had.

As she walked back into the bedroom, she realized that his entire quarters were elegant...sparsely-furnished, but refined in a sophisticated way she wouldn't have thought likely, not with his reputation.

She sighed as she sank back into that glorious bed. It felt odd sleeping in a stranger's bed wearing only a stranger's shirt, but she was so comfortable she couldn't bring herself to really care.

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Funny, he couldn't remember how old he was when he was turned, somewhere between 17 and 20, he guessed, but he could remember every single minute of his unlife afterwards. 877 years, 263 days, and counting.

He couldn't remember his father's name. That foul bastard was the spoiled, sniveling, self-styled ruler of Carcassonne, his birthplace, who had callously raped his mother until she grew large with his seed, then cast her aside with contempt.

He had few memories of his mother, but cherished the ones he could recall. Corisande was a small, vivacious woman determined not to let the miseries of life overly affect either herself or her young son. She fought valiantly until the day of her death, the last day of his childhood, as an illness of the lung took her from him. He thought that perhaps he had been ten years human, maybe eleven, at that time.

The bleak years after his mother's passing and before his Maker saved him were a blur of misery, anger, violence and brutality, but he survived. Through painful lessons he quickly learned to harden himself against all who would harm or hinder him or his plans. He learned to calculate and strategize, when to strike and when to wait, and how to ruthlessly obtain what he needed, then what he wanted.

He couldn't know it at the time, but he was learning how to be vampire.

Damn. Why was he thinking about his past, his mother even? What the hell had brought that up?

He threw himself out of his bed and immediately heated up a bottle of blood. He paced as he drained it and contemplated the human he could sense even from behind the heavy secured doors. He stifled his relief at knowing she was still safe within his chambers and heated himself another blood without being fully aware of his actions.

He automatically wondered if she had remained with him during the day or if she'd risked detection out of a foolish sense of invulnerability.

Surely to fuck she recognized the value of his advice. If she didn't and was hurt because of it, then it was her own damn fault.

As he pulled on his silk pajama pants, he felt his temper rising. Why the fuck was _he_ changing _his_ routine just because of some girl's modesty? These were _his_ rooms, and if he wanted to strut around bare as the night he rose, that was his prerogative. He glared in contempt at the pajama top he refused to don.

After he placed his second empty bottle into the recycling bin, he found himself wondering if she'd eaten that day. He sniffed the air, searching for any food odors possibly wafting through the secured doors, and thought he detected something new. As unfamiliar as he was with human foods, he wasn't sure what it was, but he was positive it was a new scent.

He prided himself on his acute sense of smell. While it wasn't one of his vampire gifts, it was so powerful it could almost qualify as one...just like his reportedly unassailable sense of focus...which he obviously wasn't using at the moment.

Right. So, get dressed, organize then tell Emma her schedule for the evening, check in with his queen, and follow up on BeauChamps dealings unless something more urgent came up...

He strode purposefully to his doors, and triggered the hidden release mechanism. The second they opened, her scent assaulted him as if it knew he needed another punch in the damn gut.

His nose told him that she had been in that room at some point during the day and that she had, indeed, eaten. He was momentarily grateful that she had apparently wheeled the food cart back into the hall for one of the servants to take away.

He immediately sensed that she was still in his bedroom and, judging by her slow, rhythmic heartbeat, still asleep...in his bed. Within a second he was by the bed, looking down at her face as she lay curled on her side.

Indecision cut like a knife. He wanted to leave her sleeping so he could dress and start his evening in peace, yet he wanted to wake her. He didn't know _why_ he wanted her awake; he just did.

Fuck. He didn't have time for this shit.

"Emma," he growled her name. She didn't stir. "Emma!"

Slowly her eyes opened.

Three. That was the number of times she blinked until her eyes focused on him.

Then she stretched slow and far. Andre fought the need to fling the coverings off her body so he could see the results of that stretch.

"You have the softest bed I've ever," she paused to yawn, "slept in."

Her sleep-husky voice tingled all through his hard body, the path of the electricity following her gaze as she took in his partially-clothed form.

Then, to his utter shock, she curled right back up and closed her eyes. He was astounded! How dare she so completely ignore him in such a way!

Andre suddenly found himself sitting down on the side of the bed in the curve of her relaxed body.

He leaned over and placed his hands on the mattress on each side of her.

"Emma, wake up," he commanded strongly.

She laughed very softly, her lips turning up in a smile, as she responded without opening her eyes, "Why?" She stretched out again and rolled over to her back without giving him a chance to reply.

When she opened her eyes, she gasped at how close he was.

"We have much to do without wasting time," he growled, determinedly resisting the desire to give her a very firm reason to stay in his bed this night.

Emma gazed up into his darkening blue-gray eyes and tried to remember his awful reputation. The expression on his face was indeed quite fierce, but the look in his eyes was pure smoky temptation. The loose strands of long blond hair framing his face made him look...rumpled.

She raised her hand to tuck his hair behind his ear, but when her fingers were mere inches away from his head, with invisible speed he captured her hand in his. She jumped when he bared his fangs and snarled at her wrist.

"Easy there, big guy. Now put those fangs away before you hurt someone," she quietly calmed him down.

Without releasing her hand, he slowly turned his head to meet her eyes. Internally she wondered why his fearsome reflexes were so easily triggered, but outwardly she remained unfazed.

While he didn't actually retract his fangs, she sensed that he had relaxed enough to not bite her hand off. She hoped.

"Now release my hand, Andre," she instructed quietly, gently.

Keeping his eyes warily focused on her own, he stared at her for a very long moment before releasing her hand from his bruising grasp.

His trust was rewarded with a soft, sweet smile as she very slowly finished what she started by gently tucking his hair behind his ear.

"There, now. That's better."

She lowered her hand, scrubbed at her eyes, then covered her mouth as she yawned again, and hoped he couldn't tell she was faking it. She really didn't want him to know just how flustered she was by his over-reaction.

"Are you absolutely, positively sure I have to get up now?" She mostly pretended to pout at him, but her smile peeped through. The bed really was incredibly comfortable.

For what felt like an eon Andre impassively stared down at Emma. Her long dark hair was once again flowing across his pillow, and her eyes had a luminous, dreamy quality probably left over from her sleep. Her lips were still sweetly softened from her smile, and her cheeks were flushing from the weight of his scrutiny.

No one had tucked his hair behind his ear since his mother.

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****Sorry this chapter is so short, but I couldn't wait to get it out to y'all. So...how was it?****

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	6. Chapter 6

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 6**

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Self-contemptuous thoughts snarled through Andre's mind. He was thoroughly pissed off with himself for wasting precious dark time staring down at this...this human. He brusquely left the bedside and stomped over to his closet. After quickly selecting his evening's attire, he re-entered the bedroom still in a disdainfully foul mood...just in time to see Emma rising from the bed with a long, slow stretch.

He held himself rigid when _his_ shirt that she was wearing rode up enough to expose the sweet curves of her ass as she bent over to straighten the covers. His lids lowered to mere slits as he watched her make the bed. If he didn't know better he would swear she was sent by his enemies to innocently taunt him with her beauty and grace.

Instead of giving vent to the useless, scathing tirade scalding his tongue, Andre turned and retreated to his hidden rooms to change.

Some time and two more bottles of blood later, Andre re-entered the den to find Emma dressed and sitting at the table sipping coffee. The angle she was sitting at allowed him to see that the backside of her neck still bore his fading mark. His fangs throbbed, begging to leave a real mark of possession.

He refused to voice the various curse words flooding his ill-tempered mind at the thought.

"Well good morning again," Emma happily greeted the sullen blond vampire.

She wasn't sure what his problem was _now_, but since she was used to his snarling temperament, she wasn't as affected by his glowering presence as she probably should have been. Maybe his middle name was "irascible" or "surly". "Cantankerous"?

Earlier she had shocked herself with her own temerity. Her heart still hadn't quite settled in her chest from his extreme reaction to such a small, simple movement, but she was rather proud of herself for keeping her wits enough to talk him down. His fangs had been just way too close to her wrist, and her hand still hurt from where he'd grabbed it. She was once again glad she didn't bruise easily.

Even though he hadn't actually hurt her, she'd still been awfully relieved when he abruptly left the bedside and gone to his closet. It had taken a few minutes for her knees to decide if they would bear her weight or not, though. She'd made the bed purely out of a need for normalcy in what was definitely not normal times, then escaped to the bathroom to get dressed.

The first bright spot this night was discovering that her underwear had finished drying during the afternoon. She didn't really want to put on her clothes from the day before, but at least they weren't actually dirty. The second bright spot was finding out that the coffee was still hot in the thermos, and that the milk hadn't spoiled in the carafe. Coffee made everything better.

When he reentered the room, Andre had noticed that she was, by necessity, wearing the same clothing as before, and couldn't help remembering her hand-washed undergarments drying in the bathroom. He was pleasantly surprised that she wasn't whining about having to wear the same clothes again considering her attention to personal cleanliness. His own Maker would have raised hell at the indignity.

He nodded toward her coffee service. "You have eaten?"

"I ate a wonderful breakfast earlier this afternoon, and saved this for now," she replied as she gestured toward the service with her cup. She chose to ignore his churlish tone of voice.

Satisfied that her needs had been properly tended and that he didn't have to smell food again yet, Andre concentrated on that evening's plans and mentally contacted his Maker. The sooner he got the girl settled in, the sooner he could go back to his normal routine.

No wonder he never took pets - they cost too much time.

He was relieved to discover that Sophie-Anne had no immediate need for both Sigebert and Wybert that evening and didn't mind lending one of the brothers to help ensure the human's safety. She was curious to know exactly what was going on, and expected a report later, but trusted Andre to take care of everything.

Either brother was an excellent guard, so he would send Sigebert with her. And maybe Rasul, too, as he was an exceptionally skilled fighter. He considered that BeauChamp might possibly have already located the girl's address by now. Not bothering to slow down to human speed in his own quarters, he sped over to his now-charged phone and quickly spoke with Rasul.

Emma listened to the conversation, and was silently surprised to learn that she actually _was_ supposed to bring her things back to _his_ quarters.

Was she really supposed to be moving in _with_ _him_?

She'd known that he wanted her to stay in a safe place there in the palace, but still, she'd thought that staying in his rooms that day was mostly just an emergency measure, and that he would probably move her to some other safe location later, but... Apparently he really _did_ expect her to stay there..._with_ _him_?

Emma's thoughts reeled as she tried to control the silky flutterings of desire teasing her center at the thought of staying with him. He was beyond drop-dead gorgeous (she quietly snickered to herself over that description), and, oddly enough, she did feel safe with him, mostly...

But this was Andre. _Andre_. Even the Queen was highly respectful of him and his "talents"...and she was his Maker!

Well, he _had_ declared her to be _his_...

As if sensing her convoluted emotions, Andre flicked his sea-blue eyes back to her and smirked as he finished his conversation with Rasul.

He sped over to where she sat, and glared down at her.

"Sigebert and Rasul will accompany you to your home so you can gather your things. Bring your things back here, and then they will escort you to the Queen," he stated without inflection.

"So...I'm staying in here, with you," she asked for clarification.

He snorted. "Where else _would_ you stay?"

She nibbled her lower lip a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. She got up and walked over to examine the area with the small refrigerator...and to interrupt his odd scrutiny. Was he going to bring out a magnifying glass next?

"What are you looking for?" Andre finally asked, curious about her actions.

Funny, that's exactly what she wanted to ask him.

"I'm trying to figure out where to set up my coffee machine. Is there a larger table handy that I could use? That thing weighs a ton, but it's my best friend."

"You wish to bring a coffee machine...in _here_?" Andre blurted, thoroughly confused and hating every second of it.

"Oh, definitely," she declared. A moment later, "Aha - an empty outlet. I can plug it in over there," she pointed to the empty electrical socket near the small refrigerator.

She turned to face Andre, and almost laughed at the surprise on his face. "The table needs to be big enough for the coffee machine, several cups and spoons, and the container for my fake sweetener. Is your fridge empty enough to hold a gallon of milk," she asked sweetly.

"Look and see," he snarled. What the fuck was she up to? Well, he knew she liked to drink coffee, but this was getting...

She looked, and there was just enough room for her milk. "Yup, there's enough room, but just for the milk, though. No snacks for me in here , I guess."

"You can order anything you want from the kitchen any time you want," he replied firmly. Whatever what going on needed to stop immediately.

"Oh, I know, and I think that's wonderful, but if it's all the same to you, I'd much rather already have what I want on hand than have to bother other people all the time, or, honestly, bother _with_ other people," she said as she scrunched her face then laughed.

And...there she went with the dimples.

He actually couldn't blame her for not wanting to bother with people any more than she had to. He felt the same way.

He glared at her for a _very_ long moment, then picked up the house phone to order immediate delivery an appropriately-sized, sturdy table.

And a larger refrigerator.

Just as he was about to inform her that these were the _only_ concessions he would make, a knock sounded at the door.

He didn't like how she jerked, startled, at the noise, and he didn't like the fear suddenly clouding her eyes.

"What's wrong with you," he demanded.

Emma shook her head and folded her arms across her chest hoping to hide the pounding of her heart. Although brief, the nasty nightmare she'd had about BeauChamp still lived in her memory.

"Just jumpy; I'll be alright," she half-heartedly reassured him. "I just hadn't expected anyone so soon is all."

He stared at her a moment longer, then strode to the door.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~0~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

Sigebert and Rasul had met up en route to Andre's quarters and both were curious about their impending assignment. Although Sigebert was definitely the strong _silent_ type, he and Rasul got along fairly well even though Rasul sometimes purposefully annoyed the taller vampire with the long, dirty-blond hair.

Of Middle-Eastern descent, the slender, dark haired, dark eyed vampire was by far much more outgoing and talkative, and often used his flashing dark brown eyes to his benefit with the females of any species. He was quite happily a notorious flirt who just happened to possess incredible fighting skills.

Neither one knew what to think about their task. Apparently they were to not only escort the queen's friend - an oddity in itself since the woman was neither donor nor pet - to her home, help her pack quickly, then bring her and her things back to _Andre's_ quarters, then escort said woman to the queen's private rooms.

They mutually agreed that the part about bringing her things to Andre's quarters made no sense whatsoever. Cold, focused Andre didn't fraternize with humans except for feeding and sex, and that was done down in the donor's area.

Andre didn't _like_ humans...so why was he moving one into his quarters?

While Rasul was lower on the political totem pole and couldn't expect to have his questions answered anytime soon, Siegebert, as Andre's brother and the one who had escorted Emma to the blond vampire's quarters the previous evening, planned on doing just that.

He suspected this whole arrangement was based on protecting Emma from BeauChamp, and he approved heartily. He almost rather liked the small female. She spoke softly, had a sweet, beautiful smile that she used often, and was funny. She treated him and his brother like regular people, and she smelled nice.

He just hoped Andre knew what he was getting into. Somehow he didn't think reserved, stern, nasty-tempered Andre had any idea.

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Andre jerked the door open and reluctantly allowed the two vampires into his quarters. Sigebert had been in his brother's private rooms only twice since they'd taken over the palace a century or so ago, while Rasul barely knew where the quarters were.

The younger vampire glanced around with avid curiosity until he spotted Emma now sitting on a sofa.

Andre instinctively snarled when he saw Rasul's eyes light up when he spied the beautiful human. Although the sound was too low for Emma to hear, Rasul certainly did and immediately redirected his happy eyes back to the angry blond vampire.

Internally chuckling at Andre's surprisingly possessive behavior over the girl, externally Rasul slightly bowed his head to acknowledge the elder male's claim.

Sigebert just hrumphed at their display and turned toward Emma to nod a greeting. Even though she hadn't heard Andre's snarl, she did sense that something was going on between the other two vampires. She didn't want in on the action, so she just grinned at Sigebert and nodded back. She'd always liked him and his brother even though they were the un-living definition of "strong, silent types".

Andre was disgruntled at both Rasul's temerity and Sigebert's acknowledgement of his human. That old dirty-blond mountain _never_ bothered with social niceties, and for fuck's sake, couldn't Rasul _tell_ that Emma was his?

Hell, it was time to get this shit started.

"Sigebert, you know that BeauChamp is out for Emma. I've claimed her to his face," Andre slid his eyes over toward Rasul and was rewarded when the younger vampire's eyes widened in surprise, "but he's just _foolish_ enough to attempt something underhanded," he sneered in disgust. "I want the two of you to guard her while she gathers her belongings and brings them back here. At no point whatsoever is she to be left alone until the threat of BeauChamp is permanently eliminated."

All three vampires fairly shivered in anticipation of enacting the threat implied by Andre's words. BeauChamp already had no friends in this camp, and, unbeknownst to Emma, his threat to her wellbeing had been the final straw to the two oldest vampires in the room. Even the youngest one was repulsed by the threat against what was obviously a beautiful human unworthy of such treatment.

"Yes, his nights are numbered, but no moves can be made until after our Queen's negotiations with him are completed. Until then, either one of you, or Wybert, will escort Emma wherever she goes, without exception." He held Sigebert and Rasul's eyes until they both nodded in understanding.

Then he turned his hard gaze onto Emma, and sternly commanded, "Listen to your guards and do exactly as they say. When you arrive at your home, quickly pack what you will need. When you return, you will bring your things back here, and one of them will escort you to the Queen's quarters. Follow my rules and I will see to your safety. Act foolishly, and I will err on the side of caution and lock you in here until the threat is over. Understood?"

Andre didn't like that odd sense of urgency invading his chest at the thought of her leaving the Queen's compound. The guards he'd chosen for her would suffice - Sigebert was the better hand-to-hand fighter of the highly experienced brothers, and Rasul could work magic with his short sword. Any more guards would draw unnecessary attention to the human, so these two would have to do.

Emma narrowed her eyes at Andre over his warning, but the deadeye look he fired right back relayed his seriousness - he would, indeed, lock her in his quarters for who knows how long.

She hrumphed, then stated, "So I guess I'd better go on to the bathroom now, huh."

Suddenly laughing at the confusion evident on the three vampires' faces, she clarified, "Well, if I'm going to be being followed around all the time..."

Those same three faces all displayed the same level of chagrin as they realized what she meant.

Rasul, always being a bit braver than necessary, suggested, "To ensure your privacy, we can always sweep the bathroom to guarantee your safety, then guard the door while you're doing whatever it is you do in there."

Emma grinned, giving all three males a quick blast of her dimples, and agreed, "That's a perfect idea! But, now, if you guys will excuse me for a minute, I'm going to go be human anyway."

When she returned to the room a few minutes later, everyone was standing near the door, so she quickly slipped her shoes on, and grabbed her purse.

Rasul and Sigebert went on out into the hall, but when Emma started to follow them, Andre pulled her aside.

His large hand firmly grasping her upper arm, Andre tugged her into him and leaned in close.

"Be careful. Keep a strong eye on your surroundings, and if you sense anything _at all_ out of the norm, alert your guards immediately. Do _not_ take any chances, Emma."

"Why can't you go with me?" She hadn't meant to say that, and certainly didn't mean to sound so weak and pitiful...it just came out that way.

"Verily I would if I could, but I am more useful here keeping BeauChamp himself occupied." His stern face never changed a bit, but his blue eyes suddenly looked a tiny bit...softer? kinder?

Emma grimaced her sympathy; she knew he couldn't stand the smarmy older vampire. "Good luck with him. I just about bet he's going to do anything he can think of to try to get under your skin, but honey, you've got something he'll never have." She gave him a mischievous look.

Andre smirked, and tried not to react to that weird warmth building in his gut when she called him that other name.

"What?" He couldn't imagine what she meant, but he was willing to play along.

"You."

He had to kiss her. That purely impish look she gave him demanded a thorough kissing, and he instinctively obliged.

In the blink of an eye, his hand rose from her arm to tip her chin up and his lips claimed hers in a rough kiss that shocked them both.

He slid his hand around her neck and into her hair to hold her head steady as he deepened his kiss even farther. He circled her waist with his other arm to pull her even closer as he felt her hands smoothing up his chest to clutch at his broad shoulders.

Her taste and scent were light and sweet and he felt like a starving...he cut that line of thought short when his fangs dropped with a vengeance. He jerked back barely in time to keep from nicking her lips.

"Obey your guards," he growled sternly, then led her out into the hall to a discreet control panel next to the door.

Emma watched in fascination as he pressed a series of buttons, and didn't object when he grasped her index finger and pressed it onto the surface of a part of the thing in the wall. After a long beep and the flashing of a green light, he released her hand then pressed a few more buttons. She had the errant thought that Andre was probably a great typist considering the speed at which he pushed all those buttons.

"You are now cleared to enter my quarters. Press this button, then press your fingertip here, and the door will unlock." At his nod of dismissal, she left with the two vampires who had been waiting patiently.

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Andre paced. They had been gone for over an hour and forty-seven minutes. He knew because he'd been counting every fucking second of it.

At least an hour and fourteen minutes of this time had been spent keeping BeauChamp occupied so that he couldn't go after Emma himself, but damn. How fucking long did it take to pack a few bags?

Sophie-Anne knew of his obvious impatience, and wondered at the exact cause. Her child was not the sort to become involved with a mere human, but she had a sneaking suspicion that was in the process of changing. In fact, she mentally chortled, she was probably viewing that very process even now.

Ahhh, her Andre. What a strange one he was. She had never once regretted changing him. She never regretted changing any of her children, but Andre always held a special place in what used to be her heart.

Although she had born no children during her brief excursion as a human, she knew the love she felt for her progeny was along the same lines as what she would have felt for the flesh and blood variety. She was proud of her chosen few, proud and concerned for their happiness and future successes like she imagined any mother would be.

Sigebert and Wybert, she knew, were happiest doing what they had always done: protecting her and her queendom. They wanted peace and quiet, blood and sex, and more peace and quiet...so long as it was interrupted by the occasional battle. She had chosen her most personal guards exceptionally well.

Andre, however, was an enigma even to her, even to this day. He was the most intelligent male she'd ever met, eerily focused, easily riled but able to maintain the traditional stoic facade unless he was truly pissed off, then no one was safe. But...there wasn't a soft or tender bone in his body except, perhaps, for herself.

When it came to punishing the deserving or extracting information from an unwilling participant, Andre sometimes scared even her with his enthusiasm and incredibly effective techniques. And this was when he was in his "calm" state.

Once again Sophie-Anne congratulated herself on the wisdom of choosing Andre as a child. He was amazingly loyal to her. In fact, she almost wanted to consider that loyalty one of her vampire gifts. All her children were _incredibly_ loyal to her. Whereas other Makers eventually released their children or were asked by the child to be allowed to roam away, her own children never asked for such freedom. Granted she did treat her progeny with much care, attention, love, and respect. She never demanded more from them than they would willingly give, even when it came to sex.

After his turning, he'd made a highly proficient lover, very capable and skilled, but it had felt more perfunctory than anything. She didn't mourn when that phase of his turning was complete, although the things he could do with his mouth...

She shook her head to clear that incredibly pleasant memory and concentrated on his impatient stalking. Surely he couldn't be _that_ concerned over Emma! She did, after all, have two incredibly talented warriors by her side. When tasked with protecting someone, Sigebert would kill the devil himself should the need arise, and even Rasul, however slight in build, was widely known for his skills with the sword.

However, she couldn't blame him for worrying. Although she'd known the girl for such a short amount of time, she really wouldn't want to lose her...friend?, and especially not to one such as BeauChamp. Sophie-Anne had congratulated Andre on his quick thinking in claiming the girl away from that foul bastard. If she didn't need the land he was holding over her head, she'd have gladly had that disgusting worm dispatched long ago.

For the sake of her child, her expensively beautiful carpeting, and, honestly, because she herself was a bit concerned as well, she really hoped Emma would be back soon.

That human was a riot, she thought to herself. Funny, kind, considerate, genuine, playful, and oddly reluctant to being spoiled, which Sophie-Anne truly didn't understand. The girl was quietly brave, too, which she did understand.

Last week while out for an evening gala, Sophie-Anne's group was attacked by some of those smelly Fellowship hypocrites, and in the resulting mêlée the clasp on an horrendously expensive antique necklace had broken. There was no time to worry about such trivial things just then as Sigebert and Wybert hurriedly escorted her away from the drama. She wouldn't have cared about that necklace except it had been given to her by one of those old kings of France. She couldn't remember his name - there'd been so many of them - but he had been rather memorable in other ways.

Two nights later, Emma, with the necklace in her purse, came knocking on the doors to the palace, and that, as she had heard someone say, was that.

Sophie-Anne suddenly sat up straighter. Andre correctly guessed that she was receiving a mental communiqué from Sigebert and subconsciously moved closer to his Queen. Although her children couldn't communicate with each other in the same method, he could definitely sense something was going on via the Maker/child bond.

"Five weres attacked...," she held up a finger to delay Andre's questions when he hissed, "when they left her apartment...Sigebert is fine...Rasul...no damage...the girl...some damage...en route back now."

"What does he mean by "some damage"," Andre snarled through his extended fangs.

Sophie-Anne had never seen his eyes turn that color.

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****A quick shout-out to all of you wonderful people who've favorited, followed, and reviewed my story. THANK YOU! Your kind comments and reviews definitely spark motivation**  
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	7. Chapter 7

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 7**

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Emma rolled her head against the headrest of the huge white Escalade and grimaced in pain. She mentally catalogued her injuries from the floor up: Ankle? Check. Hip? Sore, but fine. Bleeding scrapes on wrist and arm? Check. Alive and not in BeauChamp's clutches? Check and double check. For once, though, she couldn't wait to arrive at the purposefully plain building concealing the Queen's unexpectedly ornate palace.

"We're almost there," consoled Rasul. He had to inhale to speak, and regretted it instantly. The scent of her blood sharpened the bloodlust left over from the skirmish outside her apartment. It was only his extreme respect for Andre's specific skills that stopped him from giving into his most basic instincts. The towel wrapped around her bleeding arm did little to staunch the luscious scent of her warm blood. It also didn't help that he considered her very attractive for a human.

Rasul expertly rushed through the traffic and hoped that no one was in the way when he finally arrived at the palace. He trusted Sigebert, who had remained on site, to contact the Queen regarding the ambush. She would most certainly inform Andre, who would make appropriate arrangements. There were four dead weres to dispose of, and one were left living to question.

They arrived at the palace much faster than posted speed limits recommended, and the entrance guards promptly let them through. Rasul hurriedly parked in front of the doors to one of the private entrances, and lifted her from the vehicle. With the assistance of one of the palace guards, in what seemed like seconds they were outside Sophie-Anne's quarters.

Since Wybert wasn't standing guard outside the Queen's doors, Rasul figured the old blond mountain was en route to help his brother with the dead and living were problem.

Immediately the door was almost wrested from its hinges as a growling Andre burst through and smoothly grabbed Emma from Rasul's arms. The instant Andre scented her blood, he snarled a command for Rasul to wait outside the Queen's rooms.

Slightly stunned and somewhat exasperated, Emma was awfully glad no one was currently expecting her to actually hold a meaningful conversation. Mr. Snarly Pissy-Pants wasn't making a whole lot of sense, she thought. If Rasul were going to flip over her blood, he'd have done so _before_ giving her the towel to cover her bleeding arm, and it wasn't like he'd succumbed to temptation on the drive over, either.

Whatever, she thought. Even though he was still making those low growling noises, at least he was holding her carefully, and she was glad. As she snuggled her head into his shoulder, she dreaded to think about how sore she'd be from such painful and unexpected contact with the pavement.

As he deftly carried her from the doorway over to the large sofa, Andre refused to think about why the sight of Emma in Rasul's arms raised his hackles so badly. Although his entire being demanded retribution for her injuries - another thing he chose not to think about, his immediate concern was to stop her bleeding and ease her injuries.

His face hardened in rage, his eyes blazing and his fangs fully extended, Andre nonetheless very gently eased Emma onto the sofa.

Somewhat dizzy from the plethora of current events, Emma leaned her head back to try to still the whooshing in her ears.

"I smell blood - where all are you damaged," he demanded as he knelt before her, already running his hands lightly down her sides and over her hips. Emma had the errant thought that she was glad she was sitting down or her butt would have been felt up in front of the Queen.

"My arm's bleeding from a lovely case of road rash, but my ankle's just sprained, I think. Even though I'm kind of sore and hurting all over, still, I'm doing pretty damn good, all things considered."

Finally satisfied for himself that those were, indeed, the only two main injuries, Andre reached for her towel-wrapped arm. When she instinctively jerked her wounded arm back, he growled, "Don't be daft, woman. I can heal you."

Imperceptibly his face softened when he met her confused, pained eyes. Although seeing the pain in her eyes caused something to lurch in his chest, he had to keep control of this situation. Her blood smelled just too damn enticing for her own good, and while he was willing and perfectly capable of defending her from any vampire who might scent her and attack, the one vampire he couldn't fight was less than twenty feet away...his Maker.

The fragrance of her blood was also getting harder for Andre to ignore, and he knew there was a small delay before his own anger could mutate into full-blown bloodlust, so he had to act fast for several reasons.

He extended his hand while maintaining her gaze and, while he knew it wouldn't actually work, he willed her as hard as he could to comply with his urgent request.

Emma knew she was in a precarious situation. She was bleeding in a room with two vampires, one of whom was offering to help her. So far, aside from being a sometimes-obnoxious ass, Andre _had_ treated her well. She decided to trust him once again, and extended her wrapped and throbbing arm.

She closed her eyes as he carefully but quickly removed the bloody towel. She refused to open her eyes when he hissed, knowing the wound wasn't a pretty sight.

"This may hurt a bit, but not for long," he quietly cautioned just before she felt him start licking her arm. She mewed in discomfort; even as gentle as he was, it still hurt.

Emma pondered the surrealistic aspects of her current situation. She was sitting on the vampire Queen of Louisiana's sofa, scraped, bloody, and bruised, while _Andre_ was kneeling before her, licking her arm to quickly seal and heal the long, nasty scrapes, while the Queen herself stood watching half-way across the room.

With a wry twist to her lips, Sophie-Anne stood watching as Andre carefully tended to Emma's wounds. She'd guessed that Andre perhaps had a certain...curiosity...about the human, but she was genuinely astonished with what she saw. To her Andre, humans truly were nothing more than disposable feeds and fucks. She would certainly never have thought to see him actively healing one. Interesting...

Suddenly all the pain ceased, and Emma opened her eyes to see Andre concentrating on rubbing several bloody fingertips all along her arm from her elbow to her wrist. He even tended to the small scrapes on her pinky finger.

He glanced up and caught her gaze. "Very soon this damage will be repaired," he said a long moment later before he quickly stood. "What is wrong with your leg?"

When Emma started to toe her shoes off, Andre immediately took over. He then lifted her legs to help her place them on the seat as she turned, but inadvertently jarred her ankle. He hissed at her involuntary cry.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut to ride out the sickening wave of pain. A moment later, she opened her eyes to find Andre focused on her with unnerving intensity.

"It's my ankle, but I think it's just sprained. When the weres attacked, Sigebert bumped me out of the way a little harder than he may have intended, and I landed weird on it."

Andre glanced at his Maker, who was already dialing for the doctor.

"Rasul, report." Although he issued his command at normal speaking volume, a moment later Rasul re-entered the Queen's salon. He'd been waiting just outside the door for the all-clear.

"Five weres attacked outside her apartment as we were leaving. Sigebert secured the one we left alive for questioning."

"Exactly how was she injured?" He growled his question as he advanced toward the darker vampire.

Emma silently huffed. Why was he asking Rasul - hadn't she _just_ told him?

Across the room, Sophie-Anne silently raised a brow as she wondered the same thing.

Rasul stood his ground, and replied, "When we exited the building, we saw no one, and they were against the wind, so we couldn't detect their scent, either. Just as we reached the SUV with Emma between us, however, all hell broke loose. The five weres attacked at once. She was injured when Sigebert bumped her away from the two that rushed her. Very quickly afterward we ended four of them. Sigebert saved the last one for you."

Andre stared hard at Rasul as he considered the information he was given. He was certain that neither Sigebert nor Rasul would harm the human on purpose, but he was searching for negligence, and was relieved to find none.

At that moment someone knocked on the door. Andre took an instinctive step back toward Emma and nodded for Rasul to answer the door.

Emma peeped around Andre's large form and tried not to stare at the short, squat odd-looking woman holding a large bag.

"Your Majesty," she acknowledged the beautiful red-haired Queen. "This the hurt human?" She nodded toward Emma.

Bemused, Emma watched the woman as she toddled over to her.

"I'm Dr. Ludwig. Where're you hurt," she demanded gruffly.

Emma lifted her leg. "Ankle." She figured brusque was the order of the day according to the doctor.

Dr. Ludwig sniffed, then fixed her eyes on Emma's arm. "What happened there?"

"Road rash. Andre's already healed it, though."

The doctor raised her brows in surprise. She grabbed Emma's wrist and examined the area quickly, totally ignoring Andre's growl over her abrupt handling of Emma's arm.

"That vamp did a good job. You won't even scar."

Emma laughed; she couldn't help it. She would never have imagined anyone describing Andre as "that vamp". Dr. Ludwig looked over at her sharply, winked, then pulled her pants leg up to examine her ankle.

Two pushes and a prod later, Emma's preliminary diagnosis was proven correct. In less time than should have been possible, the doctor had her ankle wrapped, instructions and pills given, and was gone.

Bemused, Emma glanced between Andre, Rasul, and Sophie-Anne, then started laughing. It was all just too much, she thought as she laughed harder.

Unintentionally concerned, Andre glanced from her to his Maker to see what _she_ thought of Emma's odd behavior. As far as he could see, there was absolutely nothing humorous about any of the previous events.

"I don't think she's broken, but I do think our Emma has had enough this evening. Call down to the kitchen and get her something to drink or whatever. That might help."

Rasul immediately complied with his Queen's command.

"I'm sorry, Sophie-Anne, Andre. This whole evening has been insane. Something to drink would be wonderful, though, so I can take some of those pain relievers she left."

A few minutes later, Sigebert and Wybert arrived at the same time as a maid from the kitchen rolled in a coffee service. Emma started laughing again at the look Sigebert gave the cart. Wybert just nodded to his queen, and quickly resumed his guard duties outside the Queen's door after giving the coffee service a wide berth.

"That's just my coffee, Sigebert, it won't attack you. Thank you for bringing that up, Tracy. I appreciate it."

Andre nodded an obvious dismissal to the maid, then rolled the cart on over to Emma himself.

"Sigebert, tell me what happened."

As Sigebert related his version of the evening's events, Emma busied herself making her coffee and let Sigebert's gruff but surprisingly soothing voice roll over her. The anticipated aches and pains were definitely making themselves known, and she was glad to swallow the prescribed pain relievers as quickly as possible. That the coffee was amazingly good was a very pleasant bonus.

She was impressed with Andre's precise questioning, and enjoyed following his trains of thought. Errantly she thought about how she'd always found intelligence extremely attractive. Finally, though, she had a question of her own.

"Andre, if BeauChamp didn't know I'd have two such excellent fighters with me tonight, then why did he bother with the expense and aggravation of sending five weres? Wouldn't that have been overkill if it were just me by myself?"

Andre hissed, then immediately stilled in the way that only a vampire could as his mind was obviously spinning a thousand miles a minute.

Quickly he glanced between his Queen, Sigebert and Rasul. "Spies."

While they all nodded, Emma suddenly had another idea. She got Andre's visual attention, and mimed writing. He cocked his head sideways very briefly, then awareness flooded his face. Emma nodded and shrugged at him even as the other vampires looked at each other in obvious confusion.

Emma sipped her coffee while Andre started searching the room at vamp speed. Within two minutes he had discovered three listening devices.

As Andre angrily crushed the bugs between his fingers, Emma quite clearly pronounced, "He's an intolerable slug...hope someone salts him soon."

Sophie-Anne surprised the gathered vampires with a great peal of laughter. The Queen, who very rarely rushed anywhere, slowly sauntered over to Emma where she sat on the sofa.

"I am in complete agreement, my fine human friend. Are you better yet?"

Emma placed her coffee onto the nearby cart, and looked at her arm. "My arm is just about healed, but it'll be days before my ankle is completely mended. I have to admit, though, I'm loving the pain killers the doctor left for me."

She blinked slowly as the sedative effects of the pills began to take hold. Soon the quietly intense and rather boring strategic conversation between the vampires lulled Emma to sleep, and she never noticed how Andre paced, deliberately keeping himself between the sofa and the other male vampires in the Queen's salon.

Sophie-Anne did, and she silently rolled her eyes at how subconsciously aggressive male vampires tended to get when other males were present. She guessed that all supe males were the same way, and knew that was one of the many reasons she preferred her lovers to be more of the feminine flavor.

Apparently, she snorted to herself, Andre wanted _his_ lover to be more of the Emma flavor.

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****So...how do you think Andre's going to take Emma being hurt for the next couple of days? Review!****

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	8. Chapter 8

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 8**

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Andre paced back and forth in front of the sofa where Emma had fallen asleep. The impromptu strategic planning session taking place between him, his Queen, Sigebert, and Rasul was too quiet for human ears to hear, but all the same, he wanted to get Emma safely back to his quarters, and then he wanted to...play.

While he was concentrating on their forming plans, he was also impatiently flipping through his mental repertoire of favored interrogation techniques. If the captured were had any information whatsoever, by daylight he would have it one way or another.

Sophie-Anne wondered if her eldest child was aware that his increasingly annoying pacing was serving dual purposes: he was expressing his impatient frustrations, true, but he was also a moving barrier between Emma and the other two males in the room.

As tedious as his constant movements were, she allowed him this reprieve. She'd never seen him act quite like this before, and pondered whether to give him a clue or let him flounder about as males have done since time began.

Meh, she decided. He should flounder. As much as she loved her child, she was fully aware of his arrogant tendencies, especially where humans and emotions were concerned. Emma was proving to be a delight in more ways than one.

Soon enough Andre dismissed Rasul with instructions to feed quickly and then spend the rest of the dark guarding the door to his quarters. He then arranged the highly-skilled services of two of his most trusted, well, _least distrusted_, were guards for daylight duty.

He scowled at the thought of their stench permeating the hallway outside his quarters, but didn't trust BeauChamps to not attack during the day.

No, he didn't trust that rat bastard for shit.

To his Queen's open amusement, Andre quickly heated then downed two bottles of Royalty Blended. He knew the upcoming stench of free-flowing were blood would ruin a decent feeding.

After discussing a few more details, he could finally take his leave. He gently lifted the still-sleeping Emma into his arms after gesturing for Sigebert to grab her pills and the crutches the ill-tempered doctor had popped by not too long ago. By now Rasul should be finished with his meal and could guard her while Andre did what Andre did best.

Although he held Emma so gently in his arms that she never once stirred, the expression on his face was borderline feral as he stalked toward his quarters followed by the silently smirking Sigebert.

Wybert's twin had witnessed Andre in action numerous times over the centuries, and was definitely looking forward to seeing this child of his Maker employ his particular skills once again. That damn were deserved what he was going to get, and what he was going to get would involved more pain and agony that he'd ever have thought possible. The hard grin gracing Sigebert's rugged face was almost grotesque as he considered how that damn were would suffer.

Though he'd never admit it, however, sometimes those skills, and especially Andre's acute willingness to use them, alarmed Sigebert a bit. One thing he knew for certain: if that were knew anything of use, they would know it by the night's end.

For a moment he pondered the discrepancy between Andre's obvious temper versus his incredibly gentle handling of the female. Then he shrugged his massive shoulders. Andre had always been hard to decipher, plus they were already at his door.

After smoothly lowering Emma to the bed, Andre growled silently when he noticed that her clothes still bore the bloody evidence of the earlier attack. As impatient as he was to begin "working" with the were, the thought of her sleeping in those clothes bothered him for some absurd reason.

He brusquely relieved Sigebert of the bottle and crutches and had him wait outside in the hall. A few minutes later, after cursing himself for wasting the time, he had changed Emma from her dirty clothes into one of his clean button-up shirts. If he happened to take the extra three seconds needed to ensure her pillow was properly positioned and to draw the cover up over her subtly relaxing form, well, it was only three seconds.

If he had also happened to linger during the disrobing process, he atoned for his understandable lapse by calling down to the kitchen and asking for the _female_ human who had brought her coffee earlier. She seemed to like that particular kitchen worker.

After briefly conversing with the woman, he placed a second quick call to his royal accountant. He then secured his door and, with Sigebert by his side, sped at an inhuman rate to the royal dungeons.

Playtime.

After descending the levels of stairs needed to reach the underground portion of the palace, in unison Andre and Sigebert stalked down the innocuous hallway leading to the more specific "guest quarters". While both males wore similar fearsome, vindictive expressions, Sigebert's twisted grimace betrayed an almost cheerful anticipation of the retribution about to be exacted on the one were left who had dared attack not only him, but the defenseless female in his care.

Andre wore the cold, vicious, fierce facade that fit him so well.

He nodded a dismissal to the attending guards who shivered a bit at the look on his face and left. The door behind Sigebert slammed shut with a resounding clamor.

The decor of the small "guest" rooms was in no way consistent with that of the rest of the palace. Instead of luxurious bathrooms and king-sized beds, the "amenities" ran more towards soundproof walls and surveillance systems. The room had a concrete floor with a convenient drain in the middle, and the walls were of a similar, easily cleaned material. A water hose was coiled neatly near an exposed faucet on the same wall as a large sink.

Each darkened, dank room was basically the same. All had similar versions of Andre's favorite implements both hung from a wall and displayed on a large table. Another wall supported silver hanging cuffs, silver neck belts, and silver thumb screws, and there was always one heavy, silver-coated chair situated over the drain in the middle of the room. Each room was also adorned with strong suspension cuffs hanging from the reinforced ceiling.

These rooms weren't where unintentional guests were held over - those rooms were farther up the plain hallway and came complete with a toilet and a bed...items deemed rather unnecessary for the interrogation rooms. If guests left _these_ rooms, it was generally in pieces.

For expedience Andre sometimes allowed his victims to remain in chains attached to either a wall or a chair during the information extraction portion of their time together, but for this particular were, he felt a curiously strong desire to beat the immortal fuck out of him several times before finishing his miserable existence.

No matter what his more primal inclinations were, however, he had to first gather whatever information the dog might have.

Both pairs of old vampire eyes locked onto the burly, ill-kempt were who was enjoying the silver cuffs attached to the far wall. The were, bloodied and bruised from his failed kidnapping attempt, snarled uselessly when he spotted the vampires, although his eyes did widen considerably when he recognized Andre.

"This is your one chance to die a painless death, mongrel. Tell me what you know of BeauChamps plans."

While the obstinate were shivered at ice in Andre's tone, he still managed to find his false bravado, and snapped and snarled uselessly.

With forced calm, Andre slowly stalked over to the table, quietly donned a pair of gloves, and selected a dulled, serrated silver-bladed knife. He moved to stand in front of the were, and slowly inspected his knife. After seeing the silver blade, the were snarled louder.

Annoyed that he couldn't relieve the noisy beast of his vocal cords yet, Andre slowly broke three ribs with painstaking precision so as to derive the most excruciating pain possible.

"The next noise from your pathetic throat had best be relevant to my interests, dog."

Andre was not completely displeased with the fetid wolf's natural disinclination toward cooperation. Jaw clinched, fangs gleaming through his lips, he simply stalked back to the table and gathered a few more supplies.

Long minutes and numerous pained howls and screams later, he displayed his handiwork to Sigebert, who involuntarily flinched. No one really wanted to see the internal workings of a were's broken, exposed ribcage except perhaps a doctor, and Sigebert was _not_ medically inclined.

The stench of cauterized were permeated the chamber. Andre didn't want the nasty fucker dying of unintentional blood loss one second before he was ready to send him on.

"Again, you filthy excuse for a supe, tell me of the plans revolving around Emma."

The were, gasping in agony and feeling his life's blood slowly seeping from the silvered and cauterized wounds, partially cooperated.

Andre wasn't satisfied, not by a long shot. The longer he was in the presence of this disgusting beast who would have taken his Emma, the louder his bloodlust screamed.

He reached for the silver dust again.

The were sang like a beautiful canary.

Half an hour later, he turned to Sigebert after releasing the now partially healed were.

"Leave us."

Sigebert raised his brows, then gladly complied.

When Andre was eventually satisfied that retribution had been achieved, he contacted the dungeon "cleaners" then went to the small but well-stocked room he kept for his personal use in that lowest, hidden, area of the palace. After a quick but thorough shower and a change of clothing, the few nicks on his knuckles had completely healed.

Finally he could tend to Emma.

On the way to his quarters, he pondered again his decision to _not_ give her his blood to heal her wounds. He resented the fact that the thought of giving her _his_ blood had even crossed his mind in the first place, and he chose to pointedly ignore that brief but strange sense of gratification? satisfaction? that the mere thought had inspired. The pull to heal her with his blood was foreign, illogical, and detested.

The blood, he sternly reminded himself, was precious and _not_ to be wasted on every hurt human he happened to come across.

He satisfied himself with the knowledge that the pills the doctor left for her use would ease her pains. When the doctor had reappeared with the crutches, he had questioned her about the bottle of pain relievers she'd left for Emma, and was reassured that they would, indeed, keep her comfortable while she recovered, and should be supplemented with an over-the-counter medicine.

That her mobility would thusly be impaired for several days was just the lucky break he needed to help keep her safe. It was either that, or just lock her into his chambers, but for some reason he preferred her to remain in his quarters willingly.

When he approached his door, he nodded to Rasul and took the bag he held out for him. After a brief chat, he dismissed the darker vampire and secured his chambers.

He stood for a long minute just inside the door and simply inhaled Emma's sweet, clean scent pervading the entire area. Suddenly feeling somewhat lighter in spirit, Andre blurred over to his bedroom where Emma lay sleeping peacefully in his bed. He immediately noted that she had barely moved since he'd left, yet her covers needed a minute adjustment anyway.

Several minutes later he was irritated to find himself just staring at the human...again...and stomped off to her bathroom to take out the contents of the bag. He placed the large bottle of Advil on the counter, and then refolded the clothes properly.

He smiled at the lacy bra and panty set, and could just imagine Emma's blush when she found them. The outer clothing looked comfortable and practical, something he oddly considered that Emma might like. The kitchen worker had followed his shopping orders well.

He glanced around, then stared at the pills for a moment. Didn't humans need water to take them? A quick call to the kitchen resulted in a couple of clean glasses being brought up immediately.

While waiting for the glasses, Andre wondered what Emma would actually do while being kept in his quarters. Her ankle might be injured, but he was certain her mind was in perfect working order, and from his own recollections he knew boredom would be a big problem. When he answered the quietly tentative knock at the door and discovered the same kitchen worker from earlier, he charged her with another task, then sent her on her way.

He scowled mightily when he found himself sitting at his desk with pen in hand to write Emma a note, but shook his head and finished the note anyway. Fuck, he's already written her damn name by the time he'd caught himself.

With missions accomplished, retribution sought and won, and human cared for, Andre slipped into his hidden chambers, downed two more bottles of heated foul blood substitute, and relaxed into his daytime slumber.

•**0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

Emma slowly stretched and was enjoying the peaceful softness of the bed until a wave of soreness reminded her of the events of the previous evening. Moments later Ma Nature naturally decided to chime in.

She rolled her eyes at that inconsiderate bitch and slowly sat up. Startled, she suddenly realized that not only had someone put her to bed, but that they'd changed her dirty clothes, too. With the way Andre was acting the evening before, she somehow doubted that he'd let anyone _else_ do it, so it must have been him.

Her whole body warmed and tingled at the thought of Andre stripping her down and seeing her naked. She checked...well, thankfully not _completely_ naked; she still had her panties and bra on under his huge dress shirt. She wondered for a moment where her slightly-bloodied pants and top went.

Mother Nature then knocked a bit more intensely and Emma grunted as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was sore all over, but didn't really want to take any more of those amazing pain pills the doctor had left for her since they made her itch.

She stood up, then promptly sat back down and practiced her cursing. Even she was surprised at how sore her ankle was. That was when she noticed the pair of crutches propped between the bed and the nightstand.

After convincing herself she was Gumby in a former life as she stretched to grab the crutches, she managed to get up and hobble over to the bathroom. She laughed when she caught herself locking the door - who was going to dare to come into Andre's quarters during the daytime?

While paying Ma Nature her dues, she saw a pile of clothing on the large counter, a new glass, a huge bottle of Advil, and a note that of course, she thought sourly, she couldn't reach from the toilet. She thought about using the rubberized "foot" of a crutch to slide the note over, but decided to just wait.

Emma leaned back and willed herself to find a better mood. A few minutes later, when a better mood still remained elusive, she gave up and finished her morning routine.

She washed her hands and face, brushed her teeth, grabbed the note, then sat back on the toilet. Standing was a bit more challenging with a hurt ankle.

"Emma,

Follow the same routine as yesterday - do not leave my quarters, and order what you will from the kitchen.

You are to use the crutches the doctor brought for you, keep off your feet as much as possible, and keep your ankle elevated. Take pills as needed.

I have procured clean clothing for your use.

We will speak when I rise.

Andre"

Well, Emma thought as she made a very immature face, _that's_ short and to the point.

Cursing at how difficult it was to rise from the toilet seat without putting pressure on her ankle, she hobbled over to the pile of clothing. She figured her own bags must still be in the back of the SUV from last night.

She was surprised to find that everything was designed especially for comfort...and was in her exact size. She really wanted to know who to thank for the comfy yoga pants, the soft T-shirt with the lower-cut boat neck, and the socks. She blushed when she discovered the lacy new underwear, but was very glad to find it. While she absolutely could not imagine Andre in a store somewhere selecting stretchy yoga pants, she _could_ imagine his long fingers skillfully sorting through lacy panties and bras.

Emma hurriedly dressed and called the kitchen for her breakfast-slash-lunch.

Twenty minutes later Emma sat at the now-familiar table gazing at all the food. Once again the kitchen had outdone itself: half a pound of perfectly-fried bacon, two eggs over-medium, crispy link sausage, four beignets, a small bowl of sweet dipping syrup, a bowl of fresh fruit chunks, a tall glass of orange juice, a tall glass of pineapple juice, and a full coffee service with milk and Splenda. There was even an extra insulated carafe of hot coffee and one of cold milk for later.

The part that puzzled Emma was that the only things she'd _actually_ ordered were the beignets and coffee service. The female kitchen staff person who'd delivered it- Tracy, from the evening before - was extremely nice...as were the two weres she was surprised to find guarding the door. One of them even stepped into the doorway to monitor Tracy's activities as she pushed the cart to where Emma indicated, and proceeded to set up the coffee and made sure that Emma could easily reach whatever she wanted. Just before she left, she indicated a large tote bag on the bottom shelf of the cart.

Curious, Emma made herself a cup of coffee then investigated the bag. Her jaw dropped when she saw the contents: two celebrity gossip rags, three women's magazines, two generic puzzle and word-search books, a deck of playing cards, a small manicure set, small cotton pads...

She shook her head, took another sip of her coffee, then started pulling even more things out of the seemingly-bottomless bag: ten different mostly-pink colors of nail polish, nail polish remover, hand lotion, and a small but colorful book about coffee, of all things.

There was even a note advising Emma to let Tracy know if she needed anything else to help keep herself occupied while she recovered, and that she hoped she recovered soon.

Huh. Emma smiled, then snorted. She figured that if Andre had fingerprints, they'd be all over this situation. She glanced back to the food cart as she pondered the overly-copious amount of food. She shrugged, then dug in.

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****So...what did you think? Reviews feed the muses, my friends!****

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	9. Chapter 9

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 9**

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Andre woke with a start. While he normally reanimated very quickly and habitually scanned his environment before visibly moving, this awakening was different.

This time, his instincts demanded a more thorough screening of his surroundings. His gut told him that something was off just enough to notice. Per instinct he remained completely immobile and used his other senses to test his surroundings. When everything tested normal, in one movement he was up, out of the bed and had his ear close to the door.

Although he still couldn't pinpoint the problem, he knew _something_ was off..._something_ had disturbed the last moments of his dayrest enough to stir him to consciousness even quicker than usual.

Senses sharpened through alarm, he paused long enough to verify through sound and smell that there were no intruders in his quarters, and that Emma was...

There - he heard it again, a whimper of some sort, then a soft cry. So fast even vampire eyes couldn't follow him, he blurred through the door and across the den. Immediately he crouched over Emma as she lay sleeping on the sofa.

After ascertaining there was no immediate threat to her safety, Andre stood tall and squared his shoulders. A thorough scan of his rooms proved there was no threat.

He paused, then stared down in puzzlement at the warm human.

Stretched out on the sofa with her head on a small pillow and the blanket tossed over the lower half of her body, she seemed fine. Her hands were tucked under her cheek, her dark hair caught in a bun that he wagered would fall loose when she rose, her pink lips...why was she pursing her lips?

He scowled as he looked closely at her brows and noticed they were furrowed, and her eyes, while closed, were darting side to side. A moment later, another she let loose with another small cry and seemed to try to curl into herself. Instinctively he bent closer.

Emma was in distress? Why? She smelled delicious as usual, but he could detect no odors other than the food covered on the cart near the table and a bit of stench from the were guards posted outside his door. There was no blood leaking from her body, and her countenance didn't suggest pain.

Perhaps she was simply...what was it...dreaming? Although he couldn't remember doing so himself, he did recall that humans sometimes did such a thing in their sleeps.

Should he wake her and tell her that there was nothing to fear? He wasn't ready to deal with her just yet and so was loathe to rouse her. What was she dreaming about that would cause such sad, worrisome noises, anyway?

Another small, choked cry escaped her lips. He bit back the growl threatening to escape.

As if he were watching through his own dream state, he saw but didn't stop his hand from gently stroking her sleep-flushed cheek. A moment later, he very lightly shook her shoulder.

"Emma? Emma, wake up. I think you must be dreaming. Stop it, and wake up now."

He waited a moment, and when she barely whimpered and curled a bit more into herself, he knelt beside the sofa and shook her shoulder again.

"Come now, Emma, wake up," he commanded a bit more urgently.

There was something wrong with that noise she kept making, and he didn't like it.

"Emma!"

All at once she gasped, opened her eyes, and threw off the blanket as she sat partially upright. Andre absently thought that her combination of quick movements would have done a vampire proud.

The residual fear in her eyes caused Andre to blurt somewhat less harshly, "It's ok, you're safe."

Emma fell back to the sofa and scrubbed her hands over her face. He thought he heard her mumble something about "bad dreams."

Suddenly she stilled, then very slowly lowered her hands from her eyes as she took in his shirtless state. As if she couldn't help it, her eyes roved from his collar bones to his broad, thick shoulders, down his muscular chest. She took in his flat, darker nipples then looked lower to the waist of his blue silk pajama bottoms. He could almost feel her visual caress.

Her eyes then quickly flew back to his face.

His fangs throbbed as the scent of her arousal hit him.

He smirked at the red staining her cheeks, and couldn't resist taunting silkily, "See something you like?"

Not being one to take the normal road, Emma sleepily woman'd-up, grinned, and cheekily replied, "Yup." She then met his gaze squarely, and promptly blew his mind. "Your feet."

Wait...WHAT? Andre couldn't decide which affected him more - her dimples, the sweet lust in her sleepy eyes, or the fact she just admitted to liking his..._feet_?

Laughing softly at the shock on his face, she slowly sat up and yawned. She glanced back at him from under her lashes, and caught his somewhat disgruntled expression...which was completely ruined by the tiny smile teasing at his firm lips.

As she gathered her falling hair and retwisted it into her customary bun, she pointedly eyed his rather handsome feet.

"Sorry, big guy, but yeah, you've got a great pair of feet. Barefoot really suits you."

Andre barely contained the very much unwanted grin that threatened to break his face at her completely unexpected words...and her dimples. What was with her and those damn dimples?

He hurriedly ran his fingers through his hair. His feet...of all things for her to admit to liking about him, she had to pick his _feet_? Emma...somehow he doubted that he'd ever understand her.

Naturally at that moment nature decided to call, and she groaned when she saw where her crutches had fallen.

With a snort, Andre quickly rose and handed them to her.

"Thank you, Andre. And, really," she dared to directly meet his eyes for the second time that short evening, "thank you for everything. When I get back from being human, will you tell me what happened after I went all happy-sleepy from the pain pills last night?"

After his curt nod, Emma scooted toward the edge of the seat, grabbed the crutches, attempted to stand up, and promptly sat back down again. With a huff, she tried it again, and grimaced when she accidentally put a bit more pressure on her ankle than was comfortable.

"What?"

"Ugh, nothing. I just put a bit more pressure on my ankle than it liked."

"The doctor told you not to put _any_ pressure on your ankle!" Stupid human - didn't she _hear_ the doctor? How was she going to heal if she didn't follow the doctor's advice?

Emma mentally rolled her eyes at his intoned reminder. "Yeah, well, ask the doctor exactly how I'm supposed to stand up _without_ doing that. It's pretty much impossible, big guy." She fumbled with the crutches then slowly, painstakingly, turned to move toward the bathroom.

Andre clenched his teeth and fisted his hands as he watched her pitiful progress for a moment, then with a strongly-growled "Fuck!" he picked her up in his arms and stomped toward her destination.

Emma automatically clutched at his shoulders in shock at his sudden assistance. The coolness of his skin momentarily surprised her, but her attention was very quickly caught by the muscles rippling in his shoulders and chest. All too soon he quickly but gently sat her down on her feet near the toilet and propped her up into his side as he handed her a crutch that she hadn't noticed he'd grabbed.

Glaring down into her face and daring her to accept, he muttered, "Do you need help?"

Emma gulped, cleared her throat, and, without looking anywhere _near_ his face, mumbled back, "No, I think I've got it. Close the door on your way out?"

Andre nodded and beat a hasty retreat.

Several minutes and a long self-pep-talk later, Emma finally exited the bathroom and wasn't too surprised to find a fully-clothed Andre pacing near the door. She was somewhat less surprised to find herself suddenly picked up and carried this time, and asked him to set her at the table where her coffee service lived.

That reminded her. "Andre, do you know where my stuff that was in the back of the SUV went? Rasul made make two trips hauling some of my clothes and my coffee machine and some supplies down before we all left." She involuntarily shivered at the memory of what happened then.

She didn't see Andre notice her shiver since he was standing behind her. He moved to take his seat, and quickly shoved the shiny brass tray holding the coffee service over toward her.

"What was wrong with your sleep," he suddenly blurted out. Damn it - he'd meant to say...never mind, he mentally cursed, finally admitting to himself that he _was_ concerned, erm, wondering what she'd been thinking about in her sleep.

Surprise at both the question and his tone of voice showed on Emma's face as she answered. "Oh, I was just having nightmares about those guys who attacked us." She unknowingly hunched her shoulders as she continued. "They were...huge, and they smelled horrible. I keep seeing that one grabbing my arm right before Sigebert tossed me away from him..." she tapered off at Andre's growl.

"They're dead, Emma; all of them. They will never touch you again." Even if she'd had doubts, the look on his face would have erased them.

Emma sat the coffee thermos down and stared off for a moment, then raised her eyes to meet his.

Andre wondered what she was thinking about so hard as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Is it bad that I'm glad they're dead? I mean, I know they were going to kidnap me, and they _had_ to know what kind of situation they were sending me to, right?" She paused, but Andre sensed she wasn't finished yet. After a moment, she continued, "I feel like I should be sad or upset that they're dead, like...maybe I should wish that they were just in a jail somewhere, but, I'm not. I'm glad they're gone." She lowered her head to look at her hands.

"No, it's not bad at all. You _should_ be glad they're dead," he clarified strongly.

An instant later Emma felt a cold finger under her chin gently raising her head to meet his eyes.

"Those filthy dogs knew _exactly_ what they were doing, and they knew _exactly_ what the risks were. They knew, and could not have cared less, that if they had been successful, you would have spent the remainder of your life in an intolerable situation. They knew these things, and yet they performed their tasks willingly," he ground out. "Never for one moment should you feel badly for someone who gets what they deserve, Emma. Never." He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, then jerked his hand away.

Emma quickly prepared her coffee, then pursed her lips.

"What?"

She glanced over at Andre and found his gaze focused intently on her face. "Hum?"

"You're trying your best to not ask me something. Just spill it, as you humans would say."

She laughed - she couldn't help it. She stirred her coffee for a moment, then asked, "Ok, were you able to get any information at all out of that...were?"

His face suddenly livid, he answered curtly, "Yes, and no, you don't want to know."

Emma bit her lip again, then, "That bad?"

"Yes," he snarled. Andre felt his whole body tighten in memory of the information he'd gotten from the were.

She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

"Ok, just tell me this: did you make him suffer?"

Andre gazed at her serious, scared, but determined face, and gladly growled, "Yes, I did."

After searching his eyes for a long moment, Emma thoroughly shocked Andre as a dimpled grin slowly transformed her soft face.

"Good."

Andre stopped his responding grin barely in time. He decided that particular moment was a great time to heat and drink his "meal". For several minutes a companionable silence ensued, which surprised Andre. In his experience, the feed and fucks he usually dealt with generally insisted on trying to engage him in useless, annoying conversation, or tried ridiculous things to gain his notice.

But not Emma, he considered venomously. No, _Emma_ didn't try to get his attention because she already _had_ it...and seemingly didn't even know it. He rolled his eyes and sat back down across from her.

"This Tracy from the kitchen, you like her?"

Surprised with his question that had come from out of the blue, Emma looked up and blinked for a second.

"Yeah, I do. She seems really nice."

"Nice? How well do you know her? How much have you spoken with her?"

"Um, well, twice now. I just usually have a _really_ good sense of whether or not someone is a good person, and I think she is."

Andre wondered if this was a particular skill, and if it was, would it stay with her after her turning?

**WHERE IN THE FUCKING HELL DID **_**THAT**_** COME FROM? **

He jerked himself up from the chair and finally stopped to lean once again against the small sink in the non-existent kitchen. He lowered his head to pinch the bridge of his nose, subconsciously reverting to a long-lost habit from his human days.

"Why?" Emma asked over her shoulder. She wondered what in the world was his problem now, but it wasn't like she could casually wander over and...and what, she wondered? What _could_ she do? She unsuccessfully tried to banish the memory of his fuckhot chiseled chest from her melting brain.

After taking a thoroughly unnecessary breath and being bombarded with Emma's scent, Andre shook his head and answered.

"You're injured. She can help during your recovery, and provide companionship while I'm gone."

"Gone?" Emma squeaked. She really didn't want to think about that sudden sharp sense of dread stabbing her chest.

His head popped up at the concern in her voice. Unintentionally his voice softened. "Just while I'm performing my duties around here. But, at no time will this door be left unguarded, so you don't have to worry about that. You will be safe so long as you remain in here."

Uncomfortable with the ideas floating around in his head, Andre dialed the kitchen's number from memory - a fact which irritated him to no end - on his cell phone and demanded to speak to the kitchen manager. He then promptly ordered the man to send Tracy and a cart of fresh food and coffee to the quarters within the hour.

Quite bemused by the suddenness of not only the exchange but of the implementation of the plan itself, Emma quietly sipped her coffee and watched the leonine beauty of Andre as he paced the confines of the den.

The abruptness of Andre's voice startled her. "Did you sleep well this day? You seemed fully asleep when I put you to bed last night."

He stopped pacing to lean back against the wall facing her, and folded his arms across his chest as he focused his blue eyes on her face.

Refusing to acknowledge the blush burning her cheeks, Emma nodded. "I was pretty well doped up on those pills, so yeah, I definitely got a good night's sleep." She cleared her throat as she pretended to ignore the last part of his statement.

"Oh, did you see all the stuff that someone brought me? I guess it was Tracy?" She indicated the bag on the chair nearest her. She really needed to divert his attention from counting her eyelashes.

Andre nodded, his lips turned up in full smirk mode.

Voice low and silky, he asked, "Does the knowledge that I've unclothed you bother you, Emma?" The gorgeous blush on her fair cheeks did bring him a certain joy.

Mentally cursing every one of Andre's ancestors, she briefly glared at him through her lashes. She then politely returned her gaze to her coffee and proceeded to ignore him as best she could, and pretended that he wasn't staring holes through her.

Several minutes later, she thought of an acceptable change of subject, cleared her throat, and pretended she wasn't still blushing.

"That reminds me, do you know where my clothes and things ended up?" Purposeful avoidance, she decided, was a wonderful thing, especially since her coffee had gone cold.

After giving Emma one last scalding gaze that focused noticeably on her breasts, Andre finally raised his eyes to meet hers as he pulled out his phone again. Very quickly he directed Rasul to bring Emma's things up as soon as possible...all the while holding Emma's gaze.

He wondered if he should tell Emma that he could smell her arousal and hear the increase in her heart rate, but strangely enough he didn't want to push her too hard. He was enjoying this tension, this...flirting? taking place between them, and didn't want it to end so soon.

Almost wriggling in her seat from his frank perusal, Emma attempted to divert his attentions. "For what it's worth, I'm finished with that food cart if you want to get rid of it. I can't imagine it smells all that great to you."

His eyes focused on her lips, Andre quietly growled, "Let's just say it smells nowhere as good as you do, Em." He then very quickly wheeled the cart out into the hallway, and dismissed the weres still guarding the door. Rasul should be along soon enough to begin his guard duties.

When he returned to the den he found Emma applying something, possibly hand lotion, to her hands from a tube. Although it smelled nice enough, it wasn't nearly as nice as her own natural scent.

Still, the process of watching her rub the lotion into her hands mesmerized him, and it wasn't long until he was actively imagining her small hands rubbing along his body, smoothing the muscles on his back, easing the tension in his thighs...

Just as he decided that he was disgusted with himself for actively thinking such thoughts of a mere human, there was a knock at the door. Now oddly irritated with the intrusion, Andre stalked to the door and jerked it open.

Emma watched as Rasul then Tracy entered the room. He was loaded down with boxes and bags, and Tracy was hesitantly pushing another cart of food and, she really hoped, fresh coffee.

He immediately placed his load near the door and announced that he was going to collect the second load, and promptly left. Tracy stood by the door for a moment in obvious indecision, then quietly rolled the cart over to the table. She quickly placed the new coffee service near Emma.

Rasul was soon back with his second load, which he promptly placed near the door. He turned his twinkling brown eyes toward Emma and bowed. "How are you this evening?"

Emma blushed a little since Rasul was, after all, an extremely attractive vampire, and replied with a laugh, "I think I have new coffee here, so life is fine. Is that all my stuff?"

Enjoying being the center of attention, Rasul happily answered, "Yes, my lovely, this is everything we brought with us."

"Good! Is my coffee machine there?"

Rasul gestured dramatically toward a box she didn't recognize, and she giggled.

"What's in that blue box?" She didn't recognize that box.

"It contains items from your kitchen that you said you just could _not_ live without," he replied emphatically.

Emma, Rasul and Tracy all laughed. Andre glowered, and took control of the situation.

"Rasul, put her clothes and personal items in the bedroom. The coffee machine and kitchen items go over there," he pointed as he ended his strong command.

Without comment, but with a definite gleam in his eye, Rasul quickly complied.

In just a few moments, Rasul reappeared. All that remained of her small pile of boxes and bags were her "kitchen" items, and Rasul whisked them away to the microwave area.

After allowing Emma a long sip of her new cup of coffee, Andre turned to Tracy.

"Consider Emma your new mistress. Your job is to make her life easier. Understood?"

Ignoring everyone's shocked stares, he focused on the dark-haired maid who nodded her head.

"If she needs something and you cannot obtain it, contact me or Sigebert." He nodded toward a note pad near the house phone on a side table. "Our numbers are written down."

Just then there was another knock at the door.

Rasul immediately stepped between the door and where Emma sat, and Tracy silently angled the food cart with the same thought in mind. Andre approved of the protective measures, and strode to the door.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Sigebert's almost-smiling face appeared. Andre allowed him entry even as he wondered when _his_ quarters had become some sort of common meeting ground.

Emma caught Andre's eye and nodded infinitesimally toward the cart then Tracy. Andre's expression didn't change a bit, but Emma could tell he'd caught on to what she was thinking.

"Tracy, how did you know that Emma needed protecting?"

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****So...what did you think? Reviews are love, people - share the love! (cheeky grin)****

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	10. Chapter 10

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 10**

**.**

Tracy looked around, taking in the quietly growling, suspicious male faces staring at her and waiting impatiently on her answer.

She straightened her spine, and quietly replied to Andre, "Word among the staff is that you're keeping Emma under guard because one of the old vampires wants her. Nobody's _exactly_ sure who or why, but people are pretty sure it's BeauChamps. Everyone knows his reputation, and _nobody_ can stand him. Everybody likes her, and hates the thought of BeauChamps getting his hands on her. She's one of us, ya know? Anyway, if there's a problem, we definitely want to help." Tracy shrugged and glanced over to Emma.

Andre considered her words for a moment, then nodded his approval to Emma.

"Here, have a seat, and tell me what all they're saying about me. I need a good laugh." Emma smiled as she indicated the nearest seat.

Tracy glanced down, then gasped. Andre immediately blurred over and demanded, "What is it, were?"

The maid pointed at Emma's now very swollen ankle. "That amount of swelling is _not_ good! Why haven't you even wrapped it? Her ankle needs to be bound and propped up. Until then, she needs an ice bag or a cold compress on it to reduce that swelling."

Before Tracy had finished speaking, Andre had already transferred Emma from the chair to the sofa and had her ankle elevated on several pillows resting against the back of it. Emma leaned back against the arm of the sofa while Andre started calling out orders.

"Rasul, go get a cold compress or some sort of ice bag. Tracy, bring her drink. Emma," he started as he flicked the blanket over her legs, "how long has it been since you took any of those pills?"

"Erm, it's been a couple of hours I think? I've slept since then," she added with a small laugh.

Tracy quietly chuckled at the small joke, then brought her the bottle of Advil.

An hour later Emma and her headache were fairly positive she'd survived the strangest world war ever. Dr. Ludwig had arrived in good time...and was scathingly livid that no one had wrapped Emma's ankle. Andre was loudly and scornfully furious that the doctor had not only "neglected" to properly treat her patient, but that she also had "neglected" to inform _him_ of the need to bind her ankle in the first place. Even the imperturbable Sigebert had bailed not long after the doctor arrived, and Rasul followed very shortly thereafter. Cowards.

Needless to say, Emma's ankle was now quite thoroughly examined, sturdily bound, perfectly propped, and lightly covered.

The way everyone was going on she was kind of surprised that no one had insisted on a full-body cast and an electric wheelchair. Yet. She kept her snarky mouth shut, though - there was a lot of humor that vampires just didn't seem to get. It was also hard not to snicker as the errant thought of Andre painting her toenails crossed her mind.

She closed her eyes and leaned her aching head on the pillows piled against the arm of the sofa for a long minute...until she heard Andre start in about the now-cold food she hadn't had a chance to touch.

"How long has it been since you ate last, Em," he demanded.

"It was the same time I took the pills, before my nap earlier, so it's been several hours, but I'm really not hungry again yet."

"Irrelevant." Andre switched his glare to Tracy, "Return this cold filth to the kitchen and bring her something fit to eat." The maid-turned-companion gladly fled the enervating atmosphere.

Emma smirked to herself. As much as she'd like to get up and pace alongside Andre as he worked off whatever had sparked his temper, she didn't dare move... and it wasn't just because her ankle would hurt. She had a very strong suspicion that if she even tried to get up, her ass would land right back where it was, compliments of Andre and his apparently intense desire to see her tucked in like a Christmas turkey.

Still, though, all that pacing of his was quite annoying. She thought for a few moments, trying to find something to distract him, then sighed. She really wished she knew what his problem was. While he'd been surprisingly angry over the state of her ankle, which really confused her, the fact remained that something of that nature wouldn't have been all that big of a deal to him.

She sipped her coffee as she pondered the situation. Males...apparently it didn't matter if they were vampire or human, they never made any sense.

At least she was comfortable all stretched out on the sofa and not the least bit cold, she reminded herself as she finished her coffee and placed the empty cup on the now-even-more-conveniently-placed end table.

Finally she couldn't stand his pacing another second.

"Ok, big guy, what's wrong?"

She knew the way he snapped his head toward her should have startled her more than it did, but she held his gaze steadily.

"What the hell makes you think there's something wrong," he demanded contemptuously with his chin up and his hands on his hips.

"Um...the fact you're wearing a path into the carpet hinted that there's a problem, but really, the fact that you just now bit my head off proves it."

For about three seconds Emma was absolutely certain he was going to literally bite her head off. His eyes blazed, his fangs dropped, and his whole body tensed.

Then, suddenly, his entire demeanor drooped as he turned away from her.

She waited for a long minute, but he didn't say anything. So, with a softer, calmer, voice, she asked again.

"Andre, seriously, what's wrong?"

Another long minute passed.

"I failed you."

Emma wasn't sure she'd understood the words spoken so very softly to the empty part of the room. "I'm sorry? I'm not entirely sure what you just said, but if it's what I think it was...you're totally wrong." She paused to give him a chance to speak, but when he didn't, she continued. "Come here," she enjoined.

Nothing.

"Andre, honey, please move your huge, beautiful body over here, or I swear I'm going to get up from this cocoon somehow."

Slowly, and with obvious reluctance, Andre turned and walked back over to the sofa. Emma slid closer to the back to make room for him, and patted the seat beside her. He stood immobile where he was, arms folded, jaw set, and refused to even look at her.

Mentally muttering about recalcitrant five-year-olds, Emma made as if to rise. Andre cursed and immediately sat down on the small space she'd made for him.

"Ok, honey, tell me how in the hell you could _possibly_ have failed me? I'm really confused here."

Nothing.

Figuring that Andre must have suddenly cornered the market when it came to surly stoicism, she just jumped in blindly.

"Do you want me to go?"

Well _that_ got a reaction, she thought with a gasp.

He hissed and a split-second later was leaning over her with his weight pressing her into the pillows behind her back and his arms on either side of her shoulders trapping her where she rested.

"You're going nowhere," he snarled as the sea-blue fire burning in his eyes captured her gaze.

She brought her hands up and ran them through his silky hair before gently pulling his head down.

"Good."

His nostrils flared and he growled deep and low just before crushing her lips in the most intense kiss they had yet shared. A smooth swipe of his tongue along her lower lip bought him plunging entrance into her mouth and Emma didn't even bother trying to control this kiss. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing and she gladly let him have at it.

When she finally needed to breathe, he slid his nose along her cheek to nip at her earlobe before drawing his lips down her throat. With a throaty purr, he quickly renewed his mark on the side of her neck, then retraced his steps to recapture her swollen lips and resume plundering her warm, sweet mouth.

Eventually a knocking at the door drew Andre's notice, and while he in no way wanted to remove Emma's hands from his hair to free himself from her hold, the fact that he was enjoying it so much told him that's _exactly_ what he _should_ do. With a reluctance that surprised even him, he slowly leaned back from her, and made himself meet her eyes.

"Your ankle. I should have noticed it...I should have taken better care of you," he barely whispered as he lowered his head.

Emma leaned up, kissed his forehead, then whispered into his ear, "If it makes you feel better, then I'll say that I forgive you, but there's honestly nothing _to_ forgive. But even so, I don't expect you to be perfect, honey. I just expect you to be...you."

Andre raised his head to stare into her warm brown eyes for a long, intense moment, then placed a chaste kiss to her throat, rose, and opened the door for Tracy, and, surprisingly, Rasul, to enter. He smirked in full male satisfaction as Rasul immediately took in Emma's kiss-swollen lips and the renewed mark on her neck; it was extremely obvious what they'd been doing before the ill-timed interruption.

Tracy wheeled the cart over to the sofa and proceeded to show Emma the contents under the stainless steel cloches covering the various plates. It took Emma a few minutes to realize that Andre and Rasul were having an almost-silent vampire-style discussion, but she didn't care. She was having her own pleasant conversation with the perfectly-grilled t-bone steak, mashed potatoes with gravy and buttered dinner roll on one of the plates. A certain bowl of vanilla-almond mousse was requesting a rendezvous, too.

Andre, facing the sofa where Emma sat eating her dinner, took the opportunity to inform Rasul of some last-minute updates to Emma's security plan...all the while trying not to succumb to the urge to simply watch her eat. This simple human activity seemed to take on new meaning as she wrapped her lips around her fork or licked her lips clean of a drop of liquid from her cup.

Rasul was the only one to notice just how often Andre flicked his eyes in Emma's direction, and somehow he didn't think this Queen's child was studying human eating patterns. He wondered if Andre had any idea of the changes wrought by this one human female, but he highly doubted it...and he certainly wasn't going to be the one to point these things out to the master torturer, either. He was pretty sure Andre hadn't changed _that_ much.

He didn't understand why Andre was suddenly ready for him to leave when Emma finished her plate meal and reached for the bowl and spoon...until the human moaned in apparent bliss at the taste of the white fluffy glob in the bowl.

Rasul had to agree that following Andre's silent command was probably a good idea if he wanted to retain use of a rising part of his anatomy.

Andre glared at Rasul's retreating form, relieved to see the male leaving the premises. He had no doubt that Emma's verbal enjoyment of her food was purely innocent, but that didn't mean that he wanted anyone _else_ to hear her. He didn't understand this compelling, almost primal, urge to keep other males away from this simple human. It certainly pissed him off, but it wasn't something he could ignore...no matter how hard he tried.

A moment later he paused as he received a "communiqué " from his Maker. It wasn't an urgent "call", but he would always reply quickly to her summons.

"Em, stay here, rest, and move as little as possible," he commanded firmly. "Rasul will guard your door." He turned to Tracy, "Care for your mistress," his order unmistakable.

As soon as he left the quarters, both women breathed a sigh of relief, glanced at each other, then dissolved into laughter.

"Well, now that we've received our orders for the evening, whatever shall we do?" Emma was still giggling.

"Have you eaten enough, or would you like more coffee?" Tracy had gotten her laughter under control very quickly. She knew Andre's reputation and didn't want to take _any_ chances.

"I'm stuffed, but if you want to, just wheel the cart over near the table for now. We can pick at it later on." Emma felt weird telling someone else what to do, but it wasn't like she had a lot of choice. Then she snickered - apparently telling someone else what to do was exactly what _Andre_ had told _her_ to do.

Tracy smiled uncertainly at Emma's snickering, so Emma described her convoluted thoughts, and suddenly they were both giggling again.

"Ok, Tracy, I have to ask: why did Andre refer to you as "were"? _Are_ you a were of some sort?"

Tracy laughed and nodded. "I'm a were-lynx."

Emma's eyes grew round. "Ohhhh - beautiful!" She thought for a moment, then added, "I'd ask how you like being a were, but it's not like you have a lot of choice, is there?"

With a wry twist to her lips, Tracy agreed, "Truth."

After sharing a sympathetic expression, Emma started trying to get out from under the blanket Andre had tightly tucked around her. "Ugh! Why does he always think I'm about to freeze or something?"

"Because he cares?"

At that moment, someone knocked on the door..

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****For some reason I've had a **_**hell**_** of a time writing this chapter and have no idea why. I just hope it turned out ok. Lemme know?****

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	11. Chapter 11

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 11**

**.**

Andre strode impatiently to his Maker's chambers in answer to her summons. While there was no sense of urgency, he knew she wouldn't arbitrarily call for his presence...but that didn't mean he had to... He refused to ponder this slight, sudden antipathy towards answering his beloved Maker's summons.

When he approached the hallway leading to her doors, the reason for his requested presence was annoyingly identifiable: Beau-fucking-Champs. His stench was fresh, and as foul as usual.

He strove to keep his fangs sheathed even as a low growl escaped. Andre wasn't the least bit surprised to discover that the asshole was making a nuisance of himself to his Queen. That cocksucker needed killing and soon.

As he approached the doors to her main salon, he nodded to the attentive vampires guarding the entryway and, without pause, tossed both doors open to enter. He smirked to himself at this dramatic display - no one else would be able to get away with such a strong entrance to his Queen's salon.

"Andre, how delightful to see you this night. I was just now remarking to BeauChamps that I was missing my second," Sophie-Anne greeted with no evidence of upset or anger tingeing her dulcet tones.

"My beautiful Queen, how fare thee this lovely night?" Andre could play the delightful attendant when needed, and bowed low over her bejeweled hand. He truly despised the elaborate, boring, and completely useless games of court, but he could certainly act the part.

Playing right along with their well-practiced charade, Sophie-Anne tittered as expected, and allowed the farce to continue knowing full well that her child's "unexpected" entrance had thwarted BeauChamps' latest plot to secure her hand, and therefore her properties, titles, and power. The stupid fool was so overly-confident in his scant charm and charisma that he really didn't think she saw right through him.

If she didn't so badly want the land he was trying to hold over her head...and if so many others didn't already know of his stay at her court...she'd gladly let Andre have his particularly torturous way with the disgusting _fils de bas._

After watching the two powerful vampires exchange a volley of standard, innocuous greetings and comments about the weather, BeauChamps' patient facade finally started crumbling.

"Yes, well, Andre," he sneered the name, "Your Maker and I were enjoying a private conversation before your unexpected interruption. Aren't you supposed to be torturing criminals or something? Anyway I'm certain you have other more important chores you need to do for your Maker, so don't let us keep you."

Being well aware of her child's temperament and his simmering need to rend the vile, loathsome vampire's body apart limb by limb, Sophie-Anne quickly stated, "Although your _unscheduled_ visit has certainly been...enlightening, perhaps my secretary can pencil you in for an _actual_ appointment, BeauChamps. I wish to speak with my child now. Do be a dear and shut the doors on your way out," she ordered with a flick of her hand. Her dismissal was painfully obvious.

Quickly stifling a small growl, BeauChamps rearranged his deep glower into a seemingly pleasant expression, bowed over the Queen's hand, and made his exit with what pride he had left.

Neither remaining vampire spoke until a guard knocked once on the door, the usual signal that a departing visitor had exited the hallway and was out of general eavesdropping range. Then, speaking faster than even most vampires could have understood, Sophie-Anne gave Andre the details of BeauChamps latest annoying visit.

As they discussed the ramifications of the entire debacle, Andre's phone rang. Instantly concerned since he knew that particular ringtone wouldn't sound unless there was a problem, he answered immediately even though he was in deep conference with his Queen.

"What's wrong?" The strident demand for information sharpened his tone.

Sophie-Anne was surprised that Andre would so quickly answer his cell in the middle of a plotting session, but the concern in his voice made her even more curious...as did the eruption of his fangs.

A moment later he snarled, "Fuck - don't let her answer the door. I'm on my way."

•**0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

In the blink of an eye he was gone with no explanations. Sophie-Anne relaxed back into her plush sofa and sighed. Emma...this _had_ to be about Emma. Another something untoward must have happened to her little human friend. She shook her head. She found that she...missed the girl and her refreshing humor and unusual attitude. That girl - without even meaning to, she had managed to completely unsettle her whole household.

No, the Queen corrected herself, not her _entire_ household...just most of the more important male vampires in it. Andre, whether or not he would admit it, was certainly affected, and to a lesser extent so were Sigebert and Rasul. Even Wybert seemed to appreciate her, and he was doing good to think about something other than his sword and guarding his Maker. And, from what she had heard from her spies, even the kitchen help of all things liked the girl.

With a bemused shake of her head, Sophie-Anne reached for her own phone and dialed for more guards. Whatever was going on, Andre would most likely call upon at least one of the twins for assistance, and she would certainly not begrudge him their help. Apparently _some_ humans required more upkeep than she'd previously thought.

She then considered the possibility that whatever was going on with Emma could also be a diversionary tactic against herself, and planned accordingly. One didn't become a Queen by being a vapid little twat like that wannabe Freyda of Oklahoma.

Sophie-Anne shuddered at the thought of that overblown, self-important bicycle of a bitch. She knew exactly how Freyda became a queen - on her knees with a knife hidden behind her back.

•**0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

As Andre blurred to his quarters, he mentally "called" his brothers to join him - there would most likely be a damn bloody mess to clean up. He knew that whoever was banging on his door was _not_ Rasul. The dark vampire been told to call either himself or Emma should anything questionable happen.

A second after he rounded the corner into the hallway that led to his door, Sigebert and, to his surprise, Wybert both joined him. Snarling too quietly for anyone but another vampire to hear him, Andre quickly commanded his brothers to leave the weres hurting but alive. He would need to question them, and then make them pay with their blood and then their lives for threatening his Emma.

Thankfully the weres foolishly attempting to break down the door didn't notice the pissed off vampires until it was too late. A short but intense skirmish later, all three weres were lying bloodied, broken, and unconscious in a heap on the floor. Wybert secured the prisoners and called for back-up with dragging their bodies to the basement.

After wiping his bloody hands on the remains of his shirt and tossing it aside, Andre unlocked the scratched but completely intact, reinforced door. His eyes immediately sought out Emma who was sitting up wide-eyed on the sofa. The were-lynx was standing in front of her ready to defend until she realized who they were.

"Andre?"

Shocked and concerned with Andre's gory appearance, Emma attempted to get up, but he blurred over to her before she could rise. He immediately knelt before her and gently pushed her back onto the seat.

"Are you ok," she asked, her concern obvious, as she took his hands in her own.

"Shhh, I'm fine, and so are you. You're safe now," he reassured her quietly.

Sigebert and Tracy were both shocked at the tender tone of his voice. This was most certainly not the Andre they knew.

Her visual inspection completed, Emma lifted one hand to wipe a smear of blood from above his eye. She held it up to him and commented wryly, "I don't have to ask who won, huh?"

Relief that the stressful situation was over made her almost giddy, and she gave Andre the benefit of her dimples even as her lips still trembled.

Andre just shook his head and gathered her close as he nestled her head into the crook of his neck. He didn't quite understand this need he suddenly had to hold her firmly to his body, but was glad he did when she wrapped her arms around his waist. He was surprised at how tightly she held onto him.

What amazed him even more was the control he'd had in not eviscerating every were in the hallway. A low growl escaped from between his fangs still lowered in anger. They were at _his_ door, trying to get to _his_ Emma. His blood demanded that those fuckers die in excruciatingly painful ways, but his brain demanded that he bleed every possible bit of information out of them _before_ teaching them the new meaning of pain.

Still, the thought of them getting their paws on Emma...he pulled her even closer to his chest.

Emma swallowed hard, then whispered, "That...that was kinda scary." The fear in her voice, and the accompanying shiver, nudged at his heart.

He wasn't exactly sure how to soothe her, but he hated how upset she was. He awkwardly started running his hand up and down her back like he'd seen silly people do in movies, and when she started relaxing against him, he found the motion came a bit more naturally.

Suddenly he became aware that they weren't alone. He cleared his throat unnecessarily, but found that he didn't want to part himself from the woman holding onto him so tightly. In one smooth movement, he rose with her in his arms, then commanded Sigebert to view the surveillance videos from the hall and adjoining corridors, commanded Tracy to wait just in case her mistress needed her, then strode off to his former bedroom.

Once inside he closed the door with his hip then very gently eased Emma onto the bed. As he turned to go to his closet, she grabbed his hand. He immediately sat down beside her.

"Tell me what happened out there," she asked as she tried not to show how upset she still was over everything. While his bare, glorious chest was a most attractive sight, the gore ruining his khakis was a horrid reminder of the night's events.

Andre reached over with his other hand and smoothed her hair from her face. He couldn't ignore the drying were blood on his hands and arms, and refused to allow more of it to defile her. "Let me shower and change out of these clothes, then we'll talk."

Emma nodded her agreement, but forgot to let go of his hand.

In a move that surprised both of them, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. With a startlingly sweet smile, he placed her hand on her stomach and rose quickly from the bed.

While Andre showered and changed clothes at an inhuman speed, he reflected dispassionately on the fact that he wasn't experiencing the expected bloodlust from the fight. Normally he'd be craving a deep feed and a hard fuck by now, but in all honestly, he wasn't wanting either one.

He snorted. Of course he was thirsty and horny as fuck, just...not for one of the used donor-whores housed in the palace for just those purposes.

He knew he was changing somehow, and while the concept itself somewhat worried him, the actual changes he'd sensed in himself didn't bother him in the least.

That worried him most of all. He shook his head and finished his ablutions.

In clean clothes but with his hair still damp, Andre returned to Emma who had scooted to what he knew to be her preferred side of the bed. He subdued the wry grin threatening to soften his lips as he settled himself against the headboard beside her.

"When was the last time you heard from Rasul," Andre asked as Emma scooted closer to him.

"I haven't heard a thing from him since he left while you were still here. Oh no - why?"

"He's missing, and I suspect he was kidnapped. We have to consider that while this was obviously an attempt on you, it might also have been a ruse to weaken our guard."

"Who _was_ at the door?"

"Dead weres."

Emma snorted; she couldn't help it. She knew Andre hadn't meant to deadpan his answer - that's just how it came out - but it still tickled her funny bone.

"Well, they couldn't have had anything decent in mind or they wouldn't have been there in the first place, so...good job, Andre. Thank you."

He'd quirked his brow and tried not to laugh when she'd snorted, but it was a losing battle, especially when her dimples made their appearance. He gave in, smirked, and responded, "You're most welcome, Em."

With that, Emma's burst of anxiety-fueled energy disappeared, and she slowly slid down on the bed and rested her head on his lap as she wrapped one arm across his thighs.

Andre stiffened in shock for a moment, then found himself lightly stroking her hair. He didn't understand exactly why she would want to rest her head _there_ of all places, but he allowed it since it seemed to give her some sense of comfort. He acutely despised the acrid scent of her fear.

With a deft twist of his wrist, he removed the thing holding her hair up and for a moment seriously considered tearing the damn thing to shreds. He hated it; hair as beautiful as hers should be free to flow softly down her back. He flung it across the room and hoped she wouldn't find it any time soon. With a profoundly deep sense of satisfaction he felt her slowly relax as he gently threaded his fingers through her hair, and knew it wouldn't be long until she slept in peace.

Three minutes and forty seconds later he felt her finally succumb to her exhaustion, yet he felt no desire to leave her bed and tend to the urgent matters at hand. Instead, he watched as his hand stroked her arm a few times before he saw his arm curling around her small body.

Four minutes. He decided that he would give himself four more minutes with her before covering her with a blanket then leaving. The sight and sounds of her slow, even breaths were both calming and reassuring, and the weight of her beautiful head on his thighs seemed...anchoring, rather than annoying.

Nine minutes later he reluctantly forced himself to emerge from the bedroom. Andre then ordered the were-lynx to watch over Emma until he could return to her bed.

He and Sigebert had security videos to watch, and prisoners to interrogate and torture. The weres would then plead for their deaths for many, many nights to come.

Andre's face tightened in frightening determination. He had a human and a Queen to protect.

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****A/N: The phrase "fils de bas" is supposed to mean "bastard" according to the link that you'll have to visit my profile to actually get because this site is fkng weird about links... Also: Reviews are inspiration!****

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	12. Chapter 12

**The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 12**

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Andre quickly opened the doors to the large hutch containing the security command center in his quarters. Elsewhere was a large office dedicated to the palace's security and surveillance systems, but he preferred having complete access in his own rooms as well. To a casual observer, the hutch resembled a huge entertainment center that was shuttered when not in use, but when fully engaged, there was little doubt of the purpose of the multiple screens, tracking maps, and keyboards.

As he quickly queued up the surveillance videos from both the hallway in front of his quarters and the adjoining passageways, he sneered through his gratitude that, in their arrogance, some vampires refused to acknowledge human technological advances.

BeauChamps apparently didn't consider that Andre had ordered the entire palace to be equipped with all manner of surveillance equipment, and had neglected to command his weres to silence in the performance of their duties. Thankfully, said weres were quite talkactive.

After shooting him with muffled silver bullets, a pack of five weres had descended upon Rasul and subdued him with a large silver net. After realizing that he did not have a key to unlock the keyless entry system guarding Andre's quarters, two weres had drug the struggling but silver-weakened vampire off while the other three remained to figure out how to enter his apartment.

Although they had tried simply knocking to lure Emma into answering, their polite tactic ended when it became apparent that she wasn't falling for their tricks. Soon they began attempting to break into the apartment and, during their endeavors, they talked.

Andre and Sigebert were both growling as they listened to the weres. According to what the weres said, BeauChamps had hired them to kidnap both Rasul and Emma. He planned to torture Rasul into revealing palace information before ending him. If they weren't able to obtain Emma, then BeauChamps would torture all the information out of Rasul that he could and _then_ offer to exchange Rasul for Emma since, in his opinion, "vampires would gladly fork over a human in exchange for one of their own".

Pacing and snarling, Andre thought hard for a few moments, then quickly cleared his screens and secured the doors of the hutch. He grabbed his phone and called Wybert who informed him that the weres were in separate cells and that the fight scene was being cleaned. Andre ordered Wybert to remain with the prisoners.

As he ended the call, he ordered, "Sigebert, stay in here with Emma. Have Alphonse and Conall guard the door, and have Evan and Hollander sent to the Queen's door."

Sigebert nodded and grabbed his own phone which looked tiny in his huge hands.

Andre left immediately and mentally spoke with his Maker en route to the lowest part of the palace.

Three hours, two dead weres and one slightly nauseated Wybert later, Andre showered and changed in his dungeon office as he composed himself before reporting to his Queen. While he had learned little else of use from the rank weres, they did cement his recent findings and cause for alarm.

Rasul, while a highly-skilled and loyal vampire, was no more immune to torture than any other vampire, and he did know information that BeauChamps would find relevant. The weres hadn't known where Rasul was to be kept; the two that had taken him were only supposed to meet "some vampires" at the back loading docks, drop off their victim, then scatter to the winds. Apparently they were successful as they'd timed everything so that they hadn't encountered anyone after scurrying from the hallway.

En route to his Queen's chambers, Andre cursed fervently as he realized that he had no way of tracking Rasul's location since his Maker was no longer among the undead. He wondered, however, if Rasul had bonded with anyone as that would be another way of locating him. He doubted it, though. Rasul was something of a _coquin_. He just wondered how long Rasul could keep his mouth shut.

He nodded to the guards, now four of them, standing in front of Sophie-Anne's door as he entered, and didn't blame Wybert for taking an automatic step back from him as he approached. He _had_ been a bit brutal with the weres, but that's the price they paid for attempting to take his Emma.

The most hostile prisoner had been left barely alive so he could tend to him more on the morrow. The were's gratuitous eagerness for his sordid task had earned Andre's "special attentions"...and silver dust...lots of silver dust.

As Andre neared his Queen, his lips twisted as he contemplated the intense internal burning the were must be feeling after drinking the silver-infused water. Well, Andre _had_ promised the foul beast that he'd be burning inside _and_ out and he was _most_ _certainly_ a vampire of his word.

"I can tell by that horrid smirk on your beautiful face that you've been using your dreadful talents this evening. Does this mean you can _finally_ tell me what's been going on now? How _is_ Emma, anyway?"

Sophie-Anne didn't want to make any sort of a fuss over her little human friend, but she was a little concerned about her. Ok, she admitted somewhat vaguely to herself, maybe she was a _bit_ more than a _little_ concerned, but she did study her recent manicure while she waited for Andre's response. If she happened to keep her head turned in his direction during her brief wait, no one said anything.

"Emma is still secure in my chambers. Sigebert and the were-lynx from the kitchen are with her, and I've posted Conall and Alphonse to the door," Andre reported while pacing. "As I thought to you earlier, Rasul has been kidnapped after being weakened by silver bullets and a silver net. I do not yet know where he was taken, and since his Maker is finally dead, I have no way of locating him. He isn't the type to bond, so that option is out."

Eyes still dark and fangs still protruding, he turned to face his Queen. "Via surveillance and interrogation, I've discovered that BeauChamps did intend to take both Rasul and Emma this night. He will torture Rasul for information. If he had gotten Emma, then Rasul would have been ended after his usefulness expired, but as he failed, he plans to hold Rasul in trade for Emma since, and I quote, "vampires would gladly fork over a human in exchange for one of their own"."

At this, Sophie-Anne jumped up from her seat on the sofa. "No. There will be no ransom. Negotiations with BeauChamps are officially over. Take him out, Andre. I don't care how you do it, just get it done," she snarled.

Sophie-Anne paced in a circle for a few moments in deep thought. "That land would have been beneficial, but he's just not worth the hassle. Have your best trackers...fuck, you know what to do, my child. Your only duties as of now are to keep Emma safe, find Rasul, and end BeauChamps in the most painfully humiliating way you can. "

With a sharp nod of both gratitude and understanding, Andre commanded Wybert to guard their Queen, and left.

Five steps into the hallway, Andre came to a sudden halt as a certain realization floored him. Stunned, he momentarily castigated himself, then a second later he reversed his course and returned to his quarters.

Once inside, he called to Tracy and ordered Sigebert to escort the were-lynx to a true guest room, "communicate" to him the room number, and to then resume guarding his Queen. He instructed Tracy to return to her mistress at Emma's call later in the day.

Sensing Andre's impatience, both nodded and left quickly. The moment they left, Andre turned on his heel, entered his bedroom, and quietly closed the door. He stopped a few steps away from the foot of the bed and took a deep, unnecessary breath. Emma's warm, soft scent permeated through the entire apartment, but was deliciously concentrated in his bedroom.

Since she wearing one of his shirts and was under the covers, he had to assume she must have woke up at some point after he left. He hated to think that she might have been scared when he wasn't there to offer what meager comfort he could.

For a very long moment Andre simply gazed at Emma, sound asleep curled up in the middle of the bed. He then removed his shoes, socks, pants and shirt as he approached her. His eyes remained dark and his fangs remained fully extended, but for an entirely different reason than before.

Clad only in his silk boxers, he lifted the covers on what he figured would be his side of the bed and slid in beside Emma's sleeping form. As he turned on his side to lean over her, it occurred to him that his bed had never been this warm, or comfortable, and that his sheets had never felt so soft before.

He slowly, carefully, brushed her dark hair away from her face and gently stroked her cheek as he began quietly calling her name. A few moments later she stirred, then sat up with a gasp.

After blinking a few times, she looked over at him, and blushed when she noticed his bare chest. He laughed when she immediately slid back down and jerked the covers up to her nose.

"Andre, what are you doing in here?"

His face turned deadly serious in response to her breathless question.

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****This chapter is a bit short, but I wanted to go ahead and get it out to y'all. (*ducks flying projectiles because of the inappropriately timed cliffy*) Reviews spark the muse, ma chickadees!***

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	13. Chapter 13

The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 13

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Beneath the covers Andre slid his hand over Emma's warm side and lightly palmed her ribcage as he considered how best to inform her of his plans. He had never done this before, so he wasn't exactly sure of what to tell her to ensure her compliance. Her cooperation wasn't strictly mandatory, of course, but he didn't feel that coercing her acceptance was the best option, either...not until or unless he had to, at any rate.

He shook his head mentally. When had shit gotten so fucking complicated?

He seldom acted on impulse, and this situation was the perfect proof of why. Here he was in bed with the human female who had damn well wormed her way into his skull in some unfathomable way, and now he couldn't evict her sweet little ass with a pitchfork.

And now..._now_ he was going to have to come up with a way to convince her to go along with his plan when even he, himself, wasn't exactly sure of how to explain it all to her...yet, even though it was much more in line with his nature, he couldn't bring himself to just make her do it, either. Well, at least not without trying to gentle her to the idea first.

Fuck feelings, he cursed to himself.

He glanced back down to her face, flushed and barely peeking out from under the covers she'd drawn up to her nose, and snorted. Her modesty and shyness tugged at his heart in ways he didn't want to recognize and didn't particularly like.

The last soft spot he'd felt for a woman damn well got him turned.

"There has been a change in plans," he began succinctly. "After considering the information gained this night, I have decided that stronger measures need to be taken regarding your safety."

"What information? And what measures are you talking about?"

The slight but acrid scent of her fear fouled the air, and Andre subconsciously started smoothing his hand over her back in slow circles. She had lowered the covers from her face a bit, and he could tell that he had her full attention. She shifted her legs and grimaced at what he guessed was pain from her ankle, and turned her trusting brown eyes back to meet his serious expression.

"Rasul has been kidnapped. Bluntly, BeauChamps will torture him for information, and plans to use him as ransom in exchange for you."

Andre wanted to make sure she understood how serious this was, but silently cursed when Emma's eyes filled with tears...this was not going as planned. He had to do something fast to stop them.

"Don't worry, Em. I have a plan that will help keep you safe."

She sniffed then sat up clutching the comforter to her chest. "I know you'll keep me safe, but I'm worried about Rasul. I hate to think of what they're doing to him." She kept her eyes focused on the comforter she was worrying in her hands.

Sudden jealousy burned like fire through Andre's blood at the mere thought of Emma shedding tears for damn Rasul until she spoke again.

"I mean, I don't know him very well, but he's funny and he's always been nice to me. I hate the thought of anybody being hurt because of me." She sniffed, wiped her eyes, then shocked Andre by once again leaning over and resting her head in his covered lap.

His hand automatically moving to stroke her hair in long, soothing motions, he reassured her, "He is vampire. He's strong and tough, so don't worry about him. He will heal."

"I don't care if he's vampire, human or Pillsbury Dough boy, honey, I can't stand the thought of anyone being tortured. Well, unless they deserve it, and he sure doesn't."

He looked down at her in surprise and was immediately sidetracked. "You...so, who _do_ you think deserves torture, then?" This he had to hear, he thought to himself as he continued stroking her hair.

Emma chuckled once, then answered, "Well, rapists, animal and child abusers and child molesters, definitely. And people who use old people then break their hearts. Those people deserve it, too. I sure don't believe in torturing anyone for information or anything like that, but for the _really_ big stuff? Hell yeah - make'em bleed."

Andre threw his head back and laughed harder than he could remember since his turning. He hauled Emma up into his lap and held her close as he kept laughing.

She looked into his handsome face and visually traced the chiseled lines of his jaw and his lips parted in merriment. Andre looked down into her eyes still moist with unshed tears and, with regret, remembered the point of this portion of the night.

" Mon Dieu, ma chere, but you are a delight. However there _are_ things we must do this night to help secure your safety."

Emma's face flushed with pleasure at his endearment. "Like what?"

"You will take my blood, and if you are agreeable, I will bond you to me."

When she stared at him blankly, he inhaled unnecessarily in preparation for giving explanations on a subject that even he himself didn't completely understand. It wasn't like _he'd_ ever bonded with anyone before.

"If you take my blood, I will be able to sense your feelings to know if you're frightened or harmed, and I will be able to track you if you're stolen from me. If I take your blood at the same time as you take mine, from what I've been told these benefits will be strengthened."

Emma bit her lip. The thought of "taking" someone's blood made her stomach queasy...but this _was_ Andre. She would ponder his "if you're stolen from me" later, when she had time to savor it.

"And just to clarify for the uninformed human, how would we go about this, exactly?" She was afraid that biting might be part of all this, and while the thought sent an unexpected shiver of anticipation down her back, she couldn't help but think that biting equaled pain.

Andre smirked as if he'd clearly read her thoughts. "The simplest and most efficient way would be for me to bite my wrist and hold it to your mouth and, while you drink from me, I would then bite your neck and drink from you."

Yup, she thought...biting.

"Won't that hurt? I mean, both the part where you bite yourself _and_ the part where you bite me. Those don't sound like any fun at all. Plus, will you be able to sense my feelings all the time or just really strong reactions like if I'm in danger?"

"Yes, when I'm awake, I will be able to sense all your feelings, and," his voice deepened into a low, rumbling growl, "I can assure you...you will more than enjoy being bitten by me."

She watched as his nostrils flared and his fangs abruptly elongated even further. His eyes burned with a hazy, languid heat as he briefly cupped her chin to run his thumb over her bottom lip.

Intensely aware of the rising bulge beneath her hip as she sat across his thighs, Emma squirmed a little and was rewarded with a deep, quiet purr coming from somewhere in Andre's chest. Flushing, aroused, and abruptly shy, she tried to move a bit out of his grasp only to be pulled back and swung around to straddle his lap faster than humanly possible.

His mouth quickly smothered her involuntary gasp as he forcefully crushed his hard lips into hers. His hands slid down to grasp her hips and he growled when pull her flush with his hardened cock.

"Wait! Stop!" Emma was understandably proud of herself for being able to withstand the delicious onslaught of his lips and still be able to think almost rationally. She braced her hands on his wide shoulders, and after taking a couple of deep, steadying breaths, she began, "Hold your horses there, big guy," she paused, her voice almost breathless, "this is all going too fast."

"Time is a luxury we do not have," he stated, his deepened voice vibrating where their bodies touched as he glanced down at her already swollen lips before meeting her wide mahogany gaze, "Dawn is nearing and we still have much to accomplish."

He lowered his head again, but this time with a softer, gentler purpose. His lips smoothed over hers like water over silk as he mumbled, "A mutual exchange will form a weak bond between us," he paused to glide his tongue over her bottom lip, "which will enable me to feel what you feel," he repeated as he nibbled at her bottom lip for a moment, "and locate you if you're hurt or need help," he breathed into her mouth before thoroughly exploring the depths of her sweet mouth. He hoped repeating the information might help her somehow.

Long moments later Emma broke off to breathe and whisper into his neck, "Will I be able to sense you?"

Andre grazed his fangs over the spot he planned to bite and inhaled deeply before he replied, "Unlikely, but possible." Emma moaned when he started lightly licking and sucking on her neck.

He moved his hands back down to cup her round cheeks to hold her steady as he instinctively ground himself into her core and cursed the two thin layers of cloth separating them. He barely avoided sinking his fangs when she shuddered and drove her nails into his shoulders as she clutched him to her.

Andre chuckled darkly when his fangs slid over a particularly sensitive place on her neck causing her to break out in goose bumps, and in delicious retaliation Emma very gently bit the same place on his neck and sucked. He then ground her even more intimately against his risen cock, and her responding moans of pleasure were the sweetest sounds Andre thought he'd ever heard.

"My blood will make you stronger," he paused to nip her neck with his blunt teeth before continuing with a voice huskier than ever, "and faster," another nip, "and you'll feel better in a general sense." He threw his head back with a growl when she gently nipped and sucked at his collarbone.

He allowed his hands to roam over the curves of her waist and back still hidden under his shirt before cupping the back of her head to encourage her to look at him. "My blood will also heal your injuries, and...increase your libido."

The hot look in his sea-blue eyes told her that he wouldn't mind that part one little bit.

He was shocked when barely a second later Emma firmly shoved herself away from him.

"What? Did you just say that your blood would heal me?"

Confused by her actions and irritated at the interruption, Andre scowled as he nodded, then got a clear look at her face.

He'd never seen brown eyes shoot sparks before, but he had a sinking suspicion that if hers could have, they would have. He replayed his words..and groaned at his own stupidity.

"So... what you're saying is that you _could_ have given me your blood to heal me _and_ create this bond thing the night I was attacked outside my apartment...but that you _chose_ not to," she demanded, her voice rising in both tone and volume.

Andre opened his mouth to defend his questionable inaction, but no sound came out.

"So...yeah...let me get this straight... you _chose_ to leave me wounded and hurting...on purpose?" The fact that her voice had lowered dangerously did not escape him.

Stunned with both the level of her anger and the odd sense of panic seizing his chest, Andre sat immobile as Emma moved herself off his lap. She was right, and while his reasoning had been sound at the time, he somehow knew it wouldn't hold up just now...

By the time he reminded himself that he needed to get his blood into her regardless of her anger, he realized that she'd grabbed her crutches and was almost to the bathroom.

The slamming of the door made his ears ring.

Ten minutes later he cursed when he finally realized that Emma was not coming out of the bathroom any time soon, and that repeatedly raking his hands through his hair as he sat stunned and useless on her bed wasn't solving this problem.

Thoroughly disgusted with Emma, the world, and, most of all, himself, he gathered his strewn clothing and stalked off to his own bedroom.

This night had _so_ not gone according to plan.

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****I sincerely appreciate every single review that y'all send, but please don't forget that I can't reply to 'guest' reviews...no matter how much I'd like to!****So...what kind of doghouse should we build for Andre? Review, please!** **

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	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter finished. My muses were squabbling, Andre was pouting, and the coffee just plain got cold. When you add in the difficulties I've been having with this site, it all made for a non-writing experience. Anyway, here you go, and I hope you like it.

The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 14

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Queen Sophie-Anne was lounging in her opulent "sun room" after enjoying her recent mani/pedi . She smirked as she congratulated herself on acquiring the sweet little manicurist - the girl was talented in several different ways and tasted slightly spicy.

She stretched, then huffed as she eyeballed her sun room with a critical eye. She wondered what the hell she'd been thinking when she commissioned the fiasco, and had to admit that while the gold trim and white marble did look nice together, the horrid murals _had_ to go. The large heated pool could stay, of course, but, really, sun and clouds and a light blue sky? What _had_ she been thinking?

With a flutter of her hands she waved her attendants away as she rose. Just as she donned her robe, she felt the most baffling explosion of mixed of _emotions_, of all things, from her dearest Andre. There was no marked fear, but...shock? Confusion? Dread? Anger? Fury?

What the hell was going on with her first-turned? A few minutes later everything seemed to calm down some.

_Andre!_

_I apologize if I disturbed you. Do not worry yourself._

_Tell me or I will worry, my Child. What is going on?_

_..._

_Andre? Do I need to come down there?_

_No, no, my Queen. Everything is ... fine._

_Andre...I have never felt that sort of a disturbingly convoluted mess from you before, and you are still entirely too unsettled. Why? _

_Emma._

_Ahh, I see. No, actually, I don't. Explain._

_I was going to...we were...but...fuck!_

_Well THAT tells me a lot. _

Whatever the fuck was going on with Andre was affecting her, too, and she was damn tired of it.

A few minutes later she and her guards appeared at Andre's door and, without exchanging a word, he allowed her into his apartment.

The Queen inhaled deeply and scented...nothing.

Sure, she detected Emma's delicious scent, and those of a were and some sort of human food, and if she wasn't mistaken she also detected Emma's beloved coffee, but...

Fuck. No wonder her first-turned was so...pissy. He apparently had an epic case of blue balls. The thought astounded her - he and Emma had seemed on a direct course to Happy Hoo-ha Land.

_Why have you not fucked her yet?_

The look he gave her was something half-way between a pit bull about to attack (_it was really sad that they had such a horrible reputation because could look so deliciously evil even when they're absolutely the sweetest dogs ever...unless they had a reason to attack_) and a child who had just lost its best friend.

_What's going on, my Child?_

_I was...but...then...fuck. _He shrugged his shouldersin a bad attempt at nonchalance_. Nothing. _ He raked his hands through his hair in frustration.

Sophie-Anne just waited as he paced in the living area of his apartment. She knew he'd tell her what was going on in his own time. She could easily have commanded him to start speaking that instant, but really, not only was he her first-turned Child, but he was her friend, as well. A friend whose emotions were affecting her own to an irritating degree at the moment, but still...

Andre looked over at his Maker and was torn between not wanting her to know of his failure in controlling Emma, and wanting her advice on how TO deal with Emma.

He finally flopped down on the sofa and invited his Maker to sit with him.

Although he couldn't hear any sounds coming from Emma's room, he still didn't want to risk her over hearing anything, so he continued the silent communications.

_I was going to fucking bond with her, but then she got pissed off, and now she's in there and I'm not. _

Sophie-Anne quirked an eyebrow at his jerky hand movements. She couldn't remember a time when her dear Andre was in such a quandary.

_So break down the door and do what nature intended, Andre. You know how to deal with pets even if you've never actively kept one. _

_If she's not calmed down by when I rise tonight, that's exactly what I'm going to do._

_You're giving her a chance to "calm down"? Andre, what's gotten into you?_

_I can't just force her... _He slid guilty eyes away from his Maker. Of course he could force her...he just didn't _want_ to.

Sophie-Anne gasped...then gasped again. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and she stared at Andre in delighted amazement.

"You care for her!" She accused out loud.

The glare Andre sent her had made grown weres cry. She simply laughed in delight, then gave him a stern look.

_Don't you give me that look, my Child. I happen to know that weird emotion thing you're feeling. You DO care for her, and I'm glad._

He raised his head in shock_. You're glad? You want me to feel this way? On purpose? I hate it! It makes no sense!_

_Of course you do...right now. You'll get used to it, though._

_But I don't want to! _His mental shout was full of irritation as he rose to pace again_. Why would you want me to endure this? YOU don't lo...care about anyone that way, and certainly not a mere human! It's not in our nature, Master. We aren't supposed to... feel ...this way._

The Queen shook her head sadly as she pondered his words. She would readily forgive his somewhat disrespectful demeanor simply because she knew he'd never "endured" something such as this before, and was facing a painfully confusing life lesson. Although she hadn't meant to interfere in his situation with Emma, she could tell that _something_ had to be done. His scattered emotions were driving her insane!

_Whether we like it or not, whether we acknowledge it or not, emotions are tied with instincts for being the most vampiric quality of all. Now, I love (_and she emphasized the word he'd sincerely hoped she'd missed)_ my progeny, but you're right - I don't love anyone else at the moment, but I could if I wanted to. At some point in the future, I very well might choose to care about someone in that way, but at least I'll know what that feeling is and how to either contain it or let it flow. The having of emotions is not the problem. What counts is how you choose to handle them._

She paused to allow her Child a moment to digest her words, and at his vaguely interested look, she continued.

_Andre, I cannot fathom what all has passed between you and Emma, but I can definitely tell that you have a soft spot for the human, and that she seems to have that same thing for you. Now, what is the problem? Why are you not with her instead of flashing your fury all over the place?_

He ran his hands through his hair, his agitation completely obvious.

_I decided to bond with her for her protection. It was all going so well up until I was explaining the effects of taking my blood and...fuck. She figured out that I could have healed her ankle the other night and she's pissed as all hell that I didn't._

Sophie-Anne hid her smirk as she pondered his words. _Explaining_? Her Andre was taking the time to _explain_ something to a _human_? She never thought she'd live to see the day...

_Hurt._

_Hurt?_

Sophie-Anne sighed_. She's hurt that you chose not to heal her. She undoubtedly feels that you didn't care enough about her pain to stop it, and perhaps even feels like you wanted her to suffer. _

In his irritation, Andre replied verbally. "Of course I didn't want her to suffer _or_ be in pain, but...," he paused to lower his voice from its almost-shouting volume. "Of course I didn't heal her then. For one thing, the blood is sacred, but mainly... If I had, she could have left my apartment at any time during the day and fucking BeauChamps would have gotten to her so damn easily."

"But if you heal her now, the same threat still applies." She was glad to see that he was calming down some, and thinking more rationally.

She truly loved her first-turned, but he did have so much to learn about women. He was indeed scarily proficient in war, but with women? Not so much.

"Yes, but at least we would have the first phase of the bond completed and I would be able to feel if she were in danger and I would be able to find her. It would be so easy to find Rasul if he'd had even a first-level bond with someone. Plus, I was hoping..." he trailed off as he pondered the hopes he now felt were lost. With a snort he continued, "Without the bond, a healing would have made her feel better, which would have tempted her to leave my secure area, and her life would have been in danger. No, it was much better to have her here, protected and tended, than healed but risk her taking off so foolishly."

"Well why didn't you just say so?"

Both vampires jumped and turned at the sound of Emma's voice. Both were shocked that they hadn't heard her open the door and approach them, but they were both elated that she'd chosen to join the conversation...one much more than the other.

Andre blurred over to Emma and stood glaring down at her even as he raised a hand to cup her elbow resting on her crutch.

"So, you have decided to join us after all."

Emma caressed his hard, handsome face with her gaze, then grinned. "Of course. You're where the coffee is." She winked as she tightened her robe and turned to greet the Queen.

"Good evening, Sophie-Anne. I hope everything is ok?"

The Queen couldn't help but notice how Andre's entire demeanor had changed with Emma in the room, and she was glad. True, it was somewhat funny, but mostly she felt a bit tearful. Her Child was growing up, as it were.

"I'm fine," she began, then leered playfully at Emma, "but I would be even better if you were to..." She trailed off at Andre's unintentional growl. "Oh, pooh, Andre. I promised I would share." The look on his face told her in no uncertain terms that he did not find her jesting funny. Too bad - she thought his reactions were hilarious. "Well, if you're going to be like that, then I'll have to go round up the twins again." She rose and gracefully made her way over to Emma. To everyone's shock including her own, she very gently, if briefly, hugged the human, then left.

Emma turned her surprised gaze back to Andre who was once again glaring at her warily.

"What?"

"You...so you are no longer angry?"

"No, I'm still angry, but I realized that I can't give you a chance to make it up to me if you're not around." She grinned full blast at him.

Andre cursed her damn dimples...again.

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*So...what did you think?**

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	15. Chapter 15

The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 15

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Andre didn't return Emma's smile. In fact, his glower deepened until her cheerful grin slowly changed to a softer, more quizzical, expression. He stared down into her shining brown eyes as if he were angrily searching for answers to all of life's mysteries.

Emma wasn't worried, though. She'd overheard enough of the conversation between Andre and the Queen to have a vague idea of what was going on with him, so she just stood there and let him take his time. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from his sea-blue gaze no matter how intent his stare, anyway.

Several long moments later, Andre nodded once and, still curiously quiet, picked Emma up in his arms and whisked her back to her bedroom. Neither noticed when her forgotten crutch crashed to the floor with a bang.

He gently settled her on the bed, then allowed his hand to trail down her leg to rub over her injured ankle. He removed the black silk robe he'd hurriedly donned when he'd sensed his Maker approaching, and then stretched out beside her. After silently arranging the covers around them both, he leaned up over her on one arm, and raised his hand to softly stroke her cheek for a moment as he once again gazed deeply into her eyes as if he were searching for something profound.

A few minutes later Emma realized that not only was the expression on his face one that she'd never seen before, but that he still hadn't spoken one other word to her. She sensed that something was shifting between them, but had no clue as to what it could be. He'd never been serious like _this_ before.

"And...," she started, only to have him gently place a finger over her lips and slowly shake his head.

She closed her lips and smiled gently at the big blond vampire. If he needed some peace and quiet to figure out whatever it was that was going on behind those lovely but somber eyes, then she could give him that, at least. She longed to smooth the blond hair away from his forehead, but contented herself with simply returning his beautiful gaze.

He rested his finger on her lips and smoothed his thumb over her cheek, then slowly moved his fingers up to trace her dark brow. A few moments later, he drew his fingertips lightly down the side of her cheek, all the while intently following every movement as if he were memorizing each minute detail of her face.

He edged the line of her jaw, then slid his large palm under her head to cup the back of her neck. He stared intently at his thumb as he stroked it back and forth over the front of her throat.

"I could end you before you could blink," he stated quite calmly, his voice low and even. "I could even make it so that you felt no pain, so that you would simply cease to exist between one blink and the next. For my own sanity, I should do this thing, but...I find I cannot." He paused for a moment and stared gravely at his thumb still stroking her throat.

"The thought of you not existing in my world causes the strangest...feeling. I do not...like this thought. It causes me a kind of pain that is physical, but it should not be. I don't understand this, Emma. I don't like it, but..." He faltered as he shook his head in painful confusion.

Emma calmly raised her hand to gently cover and still his thumb. His eyes flew to meet hers, and the solemnity in his gaze betrayed his inner torment. A moment later, still trapping his gaze with her own, she slowly removed his hand from her neck and drew it to up her mouth to press a kiss into his palm.

His eyes broke from hers to follow the movement when she brushed his hand across her chin, lightly skimmed it over her throat, and finally stopped to hold his hand directly over her heart.

She waited until he finally raised his eyes to meet hers again before quietly whispering, "Me, too."

His eyes, fierce and burning and rimmed faintly with red, locked onto hers with an intensity that made her gasp. In a movement too fast for her eyes to follow, he was suddenly stretched out on top of her, his weight resting on his hands braced on each side of her shoulders, his hips pressing her slightly into the mattress, his darkening sea-blue eyes still burning into hers.

Tentatively, as if she were taming a wild lion, Emma smoothed her hands up his arms and across his shoulders to finally twine her fingers behind his neck. She didn't try to pull him down to her or rush him in any way, but it felt wrong to not touch him just then. The heat in his eyes was quickly replacing the lingering gravity, and she saw his nostrils flare when he noticed her body's reaction to his position.

He slowly, carefully, lowered his head until his forehead touched hers for a long moment, then he abruptly pushed himself back up.

"Once I start," he growled, "I will not stop." Emma could have sworn that his eyes blazed with blue fire for a second. The tight muscles in his shoulders flexed as he continued. "I'll be as easy with you as I can, but that is not my way. If I hurt you," he ground out, his jaw clenched, his arms beginning to tremble, "you must tell me immediately." He glared down into her face as if she were at fault in some way.

Emma lightly drew her hands across his shoulders as she nodded. The hot, hard look in his eyes and the way his muscles bunched under her fingers made her lower parts tingle in the most delicious way.

His nostrils flared as he drew an unnecessary breath, and in the blink of her eye he ripped open the front of his shirt that she was wearing. He stared long and hard at her suddenly bare breasts then, arms visibly trembling, he began lowering his head with his molten blue eyes zeroing in on her lips. "We will fuck, then we will bond, and then we will fuck again." She shuddered at the gravelly need burning through his voice.

His lips crushed hers as she felt his hand slide under her hip. The sound of ripping cotton panties and silk boxers barely penetrated the sensual fog clouding her brain as his tongue delved deeper and his hand hooked under her knee to bring her leg up and around his hip.

He gave a full-body shiver when she rubbed one of his fangs with her tongue, and hissed a moment later when she moved her hips in an ancient invitation.

Emma realized that this was not going to be the slow and gentle coupling of her imagination when he suddenly thrust two long fingers inside her to test her readiness. She found she didn't mind a bit when he started pumping those fingers in and out while roughly licking and nibbling at her throat.

His lips and teeth found her nipple at the same time as his thumb found her clit and in hot seconds she cried out with the hardest release she'd ever known. A moment later he went as still as only a vampire can as he braced himself above her.

She slowly opened her eyes, still dazed from coming so hard, and looked up into eyes a shade of blue she'd never seen before. His fangs were extended longer than ever, and his set face was hard with his struggle to control himself.

Her fingers, still clawed onto his shoulders, flexed, but it was her slow, lazy grin that seemed to trigger some sort of reaction because the next second he slammed his long, thick length into her up to the hilt, then pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, over and over.

Emma gasped at his size and thickness - she'd never felt _that_ full before. She instinctively brought her other leg up to wrap around his hips in an effort to hang on because her last coherent thought was that this was going to be one long, hard ride.

He crashed into her in long, hard thrusts, over and over...thrusts that rocked her and the bed and probably some of the stars above, her dazed mind pondered.

At some point minutes...hours?...later, she felt a slight sting on the side of her neck and the instant pleasure was so intense...

Andre grabbed hold of the sheet on each side of Emma to keep from bruising her with his fervor. It was all he could do to simply piston his hips as he pounded in and out of her tight warmth, but when she wrapped her other leg around his hips and clawed into his shoulders, pure instinct had took over. It had never felt like this before, not even with those highly trained vampire courtesans.

As he pounded and nipped and pummeled and licked and inhaled the addictive scent of his Emma's passion, Andre knew pure pleasure for the first time in his long, lonely life.

It was rough, it was intense, and it was perfect.

Then he bit her, and she screamed her pleasure...and then her body clutched him tighter than any fist before she passed out just as he came almost violently over and over inside her.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

Andre smiled softly down at the dark haired enigma in his arms as she slowly stirred. After he'd finally recovered from coming so hard it had almost hurt, he'd let them both have a necessary "breather". He might even be willing to admit that he'd needed a moment to come back to reality afterward but was thankful no one would dare ask such a question of him.

The intensity of their joining shocked him to his core. Never in all his years had he ever...not even with all his former partners... All had been willing, most had been experienced, and many had been trained in various ways, but no one...

After catching his non-existent breath, he'd healed his bite marks from her neck, even though he deeply despised doing so. The instinct to mark her as his was so much more powerful than he'd ever have expected. But, he'd fought that demon and won...for the moment, at least.

He did pause often, however, to part his lips and inhale through his mouth to properly savor the lingering flavor of her incredible blood. So fresh...so vibrant...so clean and warm and pure and...

He growled lowly in virile frustration as he finished removing his torn shirt from his sleeping lover's body, and then cleaned them both up before returning to the bed to gather her safely in his arms. He hoped she would wake up before he had to die for the day because he really did intend on completing a first bond with her.

At this point he was cutting it really close - the sun would rise in a matter of minutes, but he knew he could count on a couple of hours' leave way before he _absolutely_ had to die for the day. He just despised forcing himself to remain animated. While it didn't hurt in any way, it _was_ rather annoying.

As they lay sprawled on their sides, he watched as she stirred and then wriggled in a delicious full-body stretch. Blinking slowly, she finally focused her warm, brown, sex-dazed eyes on his now-relaxed handsome face, and promptly blushed a fetching deep rose.

Then she grinned up at him...with her dimples in full force.

For once, he didn't mind a bit.

Nor did he mind when she immediately leaned up to capture his lips in a sweet, hot kiss. Instantly he rolled her over onto her back and covered her body with his own. Long minutes later he leaned up.

"Now we bond."

Emma bit her lip, then blurted, "Um, lemme go have a human moment first."

The confused, slightly miffed expression on his face made her laugh a bit. "I just have to go to the bathroom, Andre, that's all."

He grunted, then reluctantly rolled off her. She squealed when he quickly gathered her into his arms and strode to the bathroom, then blushed when he automatically lowered her onto the toilet. He actually laughed, snickered really, when she loudly shooed him from the bathroom.

After she finished with her human necessities, she hobbled over to the sink to wash her hands, and saw a damp washcloth balled up on the counter. She was puzzled for a moment, then realized that she hadn't felt unclean "down there" from their earlier activities...he must have taken the time to clean her up! Trying to keep her jaw from dropping at the care evidenced by such a tender attention, Emma washed her hands and pretended that she wasn't stark naked when Andre, beautifully naked himself, came back into the bathroom to pick her up and take her back to the bed.

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****Ok, so...what did you think?****

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	16. Chapter 16

The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 16

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*Useless A/N: Sorry so late...*ducks rotten fruit*...but here it is...as is...all mistakes are forevermore mine own...*

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Andre carefully lowered Emma to her side of the bed, then quietly joined her on his own side. He rolled over to face her, but didn't say anything. The lengthening silence was starting to take its toll on her when he finally spoke.

"I apologize."

His words, stated so softly, startled Emma out of trying to figure out how to cover them up without being too obvious about it. She looked up and saw the regret on his face.

"For what?" She couldn't imagine a single thing for him to be sorry about.

"I had meant to... I don't know how to be...easy with you, but, I had wanted something different." His gaze focused on the bruises slowly forming on her hips.

Emma thought for a moment, then leaned over and bit his shoulder...hard.

He hissed then immediately rolled over on top of her. "What the fuck was that about?" She'd fucking _BIT_ him!

Not even trying to hide her self-satisfied grin, Emma quipped, "_That_ was for being so hard on yourself, honey." She cupped his cheeks in her hands, and continued more seriously. "I don't know a lot about you, but from what I do know, being gentle isn't exactly a part of your current repertoire, and I don't hold it against you. What you've been doing for the biggest part of forever has required the cold, hard, brutal part of your personality to show the most."

She was torn between laughing at the expression on his face, and weeping for the gentle being she had begun to suspect lived behind the facade. She settled for tucking a stray lock of hair back behind his ear. "It's just going to take some time for you to get used to being sweet with me. It's been a while since I've been with anyone, so, yeah, I guess I wish you _could_ have gone a little slower and easier this first time between us, but even so, Andre...honey...I have to say that you have some fine-ass bedroom moves, babe."

It was all she could do to keep from guffawing as the expressions on his face flowed from regret to pained to smug to outrage, then back to smug.

A moment later..."Babe?!" What the hell? She's biting him _and_ calling him names now?

She grinned at the indignant distaste in his voice and shamelessly flaunted her dimples. "Yup. Babe."

"Let's bond, then I'll show you "babe"," he suggested threateningly. The slightly upturned corners of his lips betrayed the treat. As he "not grinned" down at her, the harsh planes of his handsome face were subtly softened...he was so beautiful, it took her breath away.

Emma laughed softly as she allowed her gaze to wander over his face. She was thoroughly enjoying teasing and talking with him. She knew so little about him, but yet she was so comfortable with him...even though she'd known him for such a short amount of time.

She brushed her hands through his blond hair as she enjoyed its strong, silky texture. "Are you _sure_ you want to bond with me, Andre? You've known me for, what, all of 28 seconds now?"

At that his expression tightened down somewhat, but the sea-blue color of his eyes had never seemed bluer. "Yes. Now, sit up," he commanded uselessly as he rolled off her and brought her up to sit in his lap as he leaned against the headboard.

He pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his right arm securely around her waist after smoothing her dark hair out of the way. She felt so small, almost fragile, in his arms, and he was once again angry with himself for being not being any more considerate with her than he had been. He was just incredibly thankful that he hadn't hurt her, and that his blood would heal whatever soreness he was sure he'd inflicted.

"I'm going to bite you here," he said, then kissed the side of her neck, "while you drink from my wrist. Ready?"

She felt him softly kiss his intended biting place again, and smiled at the tenderness in the action. She truly doubted that he had any idea of how gentle he really was with her.

Then she blew out a puff of air. Even though she'd known that this was going to be a big step, now that the time was _here_, it seemed bigger than ever. She nodded hesitantly.

"Em?" Andre would never admit it, but the stab of fear that suddenly pierced his dead heart almost felled him. What if she'd changed her mind?

The tone of his voice soothed something inside her, and the unexpected attack of nerves seemed to abruptly dissolve.

"Yes." The surety and firmness in her voice comforted both of them.

She heard his fangs erupt, and twitched at the crunching noise when he bit into his skin, but when he held his bleeding wrist around to her, she immediately pulled it to her mouth and latched on before she could look too closely and chicken out.

As the first drop of his old, powerful blood touched her tongue, she was not only amazed by his taste, but by how right the action felt. She'd heard of the healing powers of vampire blood, and knew that V was the idiots' drug of choice since vampires had revealed themselves, but she'd never once seriously considered putting vampire blood into her own mouth...until Andre had told her about bonding. Since then, her feelings on the subject had ranged from deep revulsion at the thought of actually ingesting _any_ blood to a very mild curiosity as she'd imagined what it might be like.

Her imagination had nothing on reality. Thicker than expected, his blood faintly reminded her of sweet black cherries, salty oak, and dark, rich whiskey. She was inexplicably worried that she wouldn't get enough.

When he bit into her neck to complete the circuit, they both jerked in shock, and groaned in combined pleasure.

Andre had been very pleasantly surprised at the incredible taste of her pure, sweet blood earlier, but savoring it while completing a first-level bond raised the experience to an entirely different level of bliss. Nothing in his long existence had ever felt like this. He could feel his instincts taking over, and fought to keep himself on an even keel. Being unexpectedly blasted with Emma's pleasure sorely tested his already-strained control.

Eventually he dimly realized that his wound had healed, and the feeling of Emma licking his wrist clean almost made him come undone. He hurriedly released her neck and sealed his bite, but couldn't bring himself to completely heal it. His instincts demanded that he leave his mark on her. His throbbing cock demanded another type of claiming.

In the blink of an eye he had her on her back, his weight once again supported by his arms as he lightly rested his body atop hers.

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will go slow," he growled as he stared down at her still-swollen lips, his fangs still extended, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled her scent. Through the new bond he felt her increasing arousal and the beast inside him crowed even as his thick cock twitched.

He slid one hand behind her neck and tipped her head back. He slowly grazed his fangs along the column of her throat and caught himself purring in response to her gasp of pleasure. He quickly switched to placing open-mouthed kisses across her collarbones, down her chest, and all over her breasts but avoided her tight, rosy nipples.

Emma squirmed under his cool assault. Her nipples were aching for his mouth, his touch, his...anything, but he kept avoiding them as if he knew exactly how badly she wanted his touch and was delaying solely to increase her fervor.

She raked her nails across his shoulders as she arched her back and nearly screamed in bliss when his mouth finally captured a nipple and started rolling it between his lips and suckling hard. When he abruptly switched to her other nipple, she did scream, and he immediately rose up to capture her lips in the deepest, longest, most thorough kiss they'd yet shared.

A low snarl escaped his throat when she brought her legs up to circle his hips and he wasted no time as he thrust himself balls deep into her warmth. He forced himself to completely still for a moment to allow her to adjust to his invasion, but to his disgust his control quickly eluded him. Pure instinct overtook him as he hooked his hands under her shoulders to hold her in place as he began thrusting harder and faster.

She ecstatically absorbed his hard thrust, and was shocked to discover that she not only wasn't sore, but that her body immediately welcomed the invasion of his large cock...welcomed it, and demanded more and Andre seemed more than willing to satisfy the demands of both their bodies.

Spurred on by Emma's gasping chants of approval, he finally regained barely enough control to alternate between slamming thrusts and slow withdrawals, and as he watched his Emma start to come undone, he found he was proud to have bonded with a screamer.

Surprising them both, he immediately slid his fingernail across the upper part of his chest and raised her head to place her mouth over the bleeding wound. He growled something sounding vaguely like "drink", and then he bit her neck.

Adrift in a swirl of powerful thrusting sensations, Emma blindly, eagerly, followed his injunction, and locked her lips around the freely bleeding cut. He struck the second his blood touched her tongue and she could feel herself breaking apart. She wasn't going to pass out again...she wasn't going to pass out...she wasn't...

Spent and trembling, Andre collapsed half-way off Emma and was vaguely amused at his own shattered breathing. He'd noticed himself taking more breaths since being in Emma's vicinity than he had in the previous 877 years combined. Her scent...their scent...he couldn't get enough.

He slowly drug his nose along her jaw, and rubbed his cheeks along her neck. Then, to reassure himself, he dipped his head and placed his ear over her steadily beating heart, and paused once more to listen to her breathing as it calmed and slowed.

Then he snorted at himself. He couldn't help but feel a huge wave of primal male satisfaction - he'd made her pass out...again. He hid his grin as he stroked his cheek across her breast.

Just when he started to become a bit concerned about her being still for so long, he felt her run her fingers through his disheveled hair, and purred in an automatic response. That purring...it was a new reaction compliments of Emma, too. He'd never thought himself capable of such a thing...until she came along. His last thought as he allowed the sun to pull him under was that he was certain it was a sign of some sort of weakness, but for the moment, he simply couldn't bring himself to care.

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**You have to know that I came THIS CLOSE to using the phrase "slid down the orgasm trail"...but I didn't...but only because we'd all have been laughing too hard to read the rest of the chapter...**HOPE YOU LIKED!**

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	17. Chapter 17

The Revealing of Andre, Chapter 17

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_Fucking instincts. Why the fuck did they have to kick in now?_ Andre castigated himself even though he still hadn't moved from the position that had sparked his scathing mental tirade.

When he'd snapped awake late that afternoon, he was curled tightly around his warm, sleeping Emma. His vampire hearing had detected movement in the hall outside the door to his chambers, and he had instinctively growled and pulled Emma even closer into the protection of his body.

...which had sparked yet another round of mental scolding...

He had to force himself to loosen his arms a fraction of an inch to give his mate room to breathe when she'd mewed a slight protest in her sleep. Even though he recognized the noises from the hall as coming from his guards, he still didn't like having anyone that near when he was dead for the day and wouldn't be able to protect his...mate.

_I'm so fucked_, he thought with sardonic resignation. _How the hell did I not see this coming? And why the hell did I fuck up and manage to _twice-bond_ with her? What the hell kind of power _does_ she have over me? One good, solid bond...that's all I wanted._

He caught himself reflexively stroking her arm and instantly paused...then with resignation allowed himself to give into the urge. He was suddenly, horrifyingly, sure that this was but the first of many such urges he would have to comply with for his own peace of mind, no matter how much they disrupted his...peace of mind.

_So, all that I've heard about mates must be true, apparently_, he groused to himself. _Well, if it's true, then we should_ _definitely not complete a third bonding. _

He allowed himself a very long mental cringe which felt strangely hollow, then soothed himself with her scent as he nuzzled below her ear until he heard yet another small noise intrude from the hall. Had the guards _always_ been that loud?

Pissed at having what should have been a slow, easy waking disturbed, he slid out from around Emma and quickly dressed for the evening.

After dressing, he strode into the main living area for his evening's foul True Blood experience, and while they were heating, he thought about Emma and her need for human food. Maybe he would hire her a cook. And maybe a housekeeper to keep things tidy. And, if he was going to hire her a cook and a housekeeper, she would definitely need a maid. Yes, definitely a maid. Ladies needed maids, even in his human times ladies had maids. His own Maker had at least ten.

He then looked around at his apartment, and grimaced. It had been more than adequate for his own needs, but now that he had the responsibility of tending to Emma's comfort, this place was severely lacking. Hell, it didn't even _have_ a kitchen.

And it was too small. And dark. She was a creature of air and light, of movement and ...she was soft. The memory of her soft skin, of her soft lips and breasts and thighs had his body reacting accordingly.

Quickly attempting to stifle those thoughts while his Emma slept on, Andre turned his mind once again to the confines of his sparsely-furnished chambers. His pet deserved better than this.

Pet. Fuck. She was no more a pet than he had ever been. Emma was his mate, damn it, and would be seen to and cared for accordingly.

Maybe he should just go ahead and assume control over Arkansas after all, he thought as he uncovered and accessed one of the larger safes he had hidden in this area. He had secure locations in several countries, each hiding a percentage of his physical wealth - any vampire over a century risen knew better than to keep even a small portion of their wealth gathered in one place.

He withdrew a heavy wooden jewel casket and set it on a nearby table. After lifting the lid and removing three tiers of loose gems and gleaming gold pieces set with sparkling jewels, he located the small silk bag containing item he desired.

The heavy gold ring held a ruby almost the size of his thumbnail, and a tiny bee was engraved into the gold on each side of it. The ruby signified protection granted by his Maker's regime, as rubies were her favorite gem, but the bees were his own personal insignia as a descendant, however bastard, of a king of France.

He had held possession of this particular piece of rather plain but exquisitely crafted jewelry for centuries, but had never bothered wearing it beyond its original fitting. Rings just weren't his thing, especially considering his specific talents. And besides, he _was_ the Queen's protection.

However, when his Maker had bestowed the ancient piece upon him, it was with great honor that he had accepted it. He'd had the queen's jeweler inscribe the bees, and when the old piece was returned to him, he had added it to his collection of fine gems and jewelry. The thought that Emma might enjoy prowling through some of his old treasure caskets brought a brief smile to his face. Someone might as well get some use out of it.

He dropped the priceless artifact back into its silk bag and stuffed them into his pocket. He replaced the casket, and spent the next half hour reviewing various security recordings and plotting his next moves, changes, and options. He had one were left in the dungeon, and his instincts were telling him that the were knew more than he was letting on. The problem was in getting the disgusting beast to talk.

There was just something off about that were, something niggling him about the way he'd been able to resist... He suddenly realized that perhaps he'd been glamoured into resisting all forms of torture. His resistance had been oddly strong. He should know; with his experience, the were should have broken right along with his miserable cohorts.

Knowing the Sheriff he needed to speak with was already awake considering he was even older than himself, Andre grabbed his secure phone and dialed.

"Northman," the strong voice answered after two rings.

Eschewing pleasantries as per usual, Andre replied succinctly, "I have need of your bonded's particular skills as soon as possible."

•**0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

The vampire on the other end of the call stood from his bed to pace. The call from the Queen's Second was an unwelcome surprise, but the words being used confused him. Andre had never once truly acknowledged his and Sookie's relationship, always referring to her as "the Queen's telepath" or "our telepath"...never as "your bonded".

Something had changed, and change always pricked both his interest and his survival instincts as change was rarely good. And besides...this was Andre.

Although he didn't expect a real answer, Northman had to ask, "What is the situation?" He was, after all, his bonded's primary protection and needed to know what he was walking into.

Sookie stirred, the sound of Eric's voice disturbing her sleep. She picked up a confusing blend of emotions from him, with curiosity and slight irritation mixed with caution and the usual blast of lust when he noticed that she was awake. She rose and donned a robe before heading to the bathroom. At the very least a call from Andre meant no more sleep that night, and very likely it meant they'd be travelling soon.

She had to wonder what kind of trouble the Queen had kicked up now.

By the time she'd finished with her human needs and taken a shower (sadly alone), Eric had already packed them both an overnight bag and was sitting on the bed while waiting for her.

"Ok, what's up," she asked as she walked over and sat on his lap.

As he gathered his bonded into his arms, he began explaining. "Andre needs you to read a rather stubborn were. A now-former associate of Sophie-Anne's had taken an undue interest in Andre's human _bonded_," he broke off at Sookie's disbelieving guffaw.

"Andre? Has a bonded? A human? Seriously? He must have glamoured the brains right out of that poor girl!" Sookie squealed with laughter.

Eric had to agree. The mere thought of Andre with a mate had him both cringing and rolling his eyes.

Sookie noticed how quickly her Viking's mood turned serious once again. "Ok, I sense there's more."

"Unfortunately, there's a lot more. In the process of attempting to acquire said _bonded_, this BeauChamps prick has taken Rasul...hostage. Andre wants you to read the were and pick his brain apart."

He paused at Sookie's expected gasp. She'd always liked the handsome, roguish younger vampire, and she had a pretty good idea of just how Rasul would be treated while in captivity. Of course she would help.

"When do we leave?"

"As soon as you are dressed and fed, and I'm showered."

"I'm on it. We're staying at our place," she asked as she moved toward her closet after a glance at the two small overnight bags.

"Of course. Even if Andre does supposedly have a bonded, I still don't trust him, but..." Eric's voice faded as he reviewed the conversation.

"But what?" Sookie's voice was muffled in the closet, but he could feel her curiosity.

"Something he said, or rather, how he said it, makes me wonder."

She came out of the closet still in the process of pulling a light blue sweater over her head, and Eric's thoughts were immediately captured by how her movements caused her full, bra-covered breasts to bobble in the most delightful way.

"Eric! Focus," she admonished with a laugh.

He waggled an eyebrow and smirked. "Hey, red-blooded male over here, what did you expect?"

She blew a raspberry at him and finally located her shoes. "_As_ you were saying," she threw over her shoulder.

"I find it odd that he referred to you as my bonded, thus acknowledging our relationship in a way that he's never done before. Usually he refers to you as "the telepath" or "the Queen's telepath"."

"Huh...you've got a point. While he's never tried anything else with me since Rhodes, still, that is weird. Makes me wonder more about this "bonded" of his and what she's like. I'm definitely glad we're staying at our place anyway, though. You just can't be too careful with Andre." She shivered as she remembered how he'd tried to force her to bond with him a while back, and sincerely wished this unknown girl of his some really good luck.

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